Peak Of Fools
by a troubled tribble
Summary: When Chekov makes a costly mistake Kirk gives him the chance to redeem himself. However, it is not just the inexperienced ensign who will learn a major lesson, but two of his senior officers will learn a thing or two as well.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Since his first star gazing exhibition to the Kuznetsk Alatau Mountains with his father as an 8-year-old boy, Pavel Andrevich Chekov had anticipated this special occasion. His first day as an ensign aboard a Starfleet Starship had finally dawned! Pavel was woken up from a dim light that was slowly filling his yet to be decorated quarters and he realised that on the _Enterprise_ dawn was actually a rather fake and sterile event. This artificial 'sunrise' was so very different to the real thing and he remembered how he once witnessed the Sun raising above the Peak Of Fools. Cradled in his father's arms and wearing protective goggles, little Pavel had gazed in wonder at the star that slowly turned night on Earth into day.

Pavel remained under the thin but warm blanket for just a moment longer, a soft smile on his face. But never one to dwell on the past for too long, his childhood memories soon had to make way for more pressing considerations of the here and now. The fact that nothing was left to coincidence on the _Enterprise_ was reassuring to the young Russian. Indeed, the artificial 24-hour cycle was logical given the predominantly human crew aboard the ship. The lighting of most interiors on the _Enterprise_, including the quarters (unless they were otherwise adjusted by the individual crew member) followed Earth's 24-hour solar rhythm of night and day, sunrise and sunset. Consequently the 3 main 8 hour shifts most personnel were assigned to were accordingly structured into the popular day shift Alpha from 0800 hours to 1600 hours, the quite popular day and evening shift Beta from 1600 hours to 2400; and the night and morning shift Gamma from 2400-0800 (only attractive to those crew members with a nocturnal streak).

Pavel slowly rose from his bed and placed his feet on the comfortably warm floor. He had to smile as he remembered how Lieutenant Sulu had related the shift rota and other helpful information to him in unique fashion. Pavel was still on his practical assignment on Toluna 7 when he personally had heard from the helmsman the first time.

Pavel was completing his Starfleet training with a practical geological assignment on Toluna 7. The young cadet had enjoyed his 12 weeks on the beautiful world immensely, as he liked to be out and about in wide, open spaces. The countryside, however alien it might be, always reminded him of his school holidays which he used to spend in a particularly beautiful part of South Siberia. But despite the joy of working outdoors, he had counted the days until he would leave for Starbase 2 where a medical awaited him before he would finally board the _Enterprise_.

That day couldn't have come soon enough.

Four days ago, Pavel bid farewell to Toluna 7 as he was picked up by a Starfleet shuttle craft. He found himself amongst a large group of cadets that had been picked up from all over the planet where they had undergone practical training. Pavel knew most of them from the Academy. The young recruits were also scheduled to undergo their medicals on Starbase 2. Then they would all be deployed on various science or medical vessels on their first tours of duty.

All but one.

Envied by his peers, the best cadet in his year Pavel Andrevich Chekov would start his career as a Starfleet Officer on the Federation's flagship: the _USS __Enterprise_. Never too bothered about what others thought of him, Pavel endured the envious looks and mocking remarks of his comrades during the one-day journey with a brave face. Those people just reminded him why he preferred to be a loner.

As Pavel sat up with a yawn and stretched his tired limps, his thoughts travelled back to the events of the previous day and beyond. Lieutenant Sulu, helmsman of the Enterprise and the man he would share his new workstation with, the ship's navigational console, had greeted him in the transporter room. When Pavel materialised on the transporter platform he saw Sulu for the first time, yet the man wasn't unfamiliar at all.

Pavel had known for two months that he would be assigned to the_Enterprise_. When it came to applying for various available Starfleet positions, the _Enterprise_ had been his first choice due to Captain Kirk's impressive track record and the vessel's positive reputation regarding its facilities and crew. Pavel openly admired Captain Kirk and had read every paper or mission report Kirk had ever published or shared with the Academy. Furthermore, the ship was the most modern and best equipped in the fleet. Only one year into its 5-year mission under Captain Kirk, the crew was already known all throughout Federation Space for its professionalism and loyalty. Pavel had earned many frowns and envious looks from his fellow students at the Academy when they asked him for which position he had applied. They wouldn't have dared to apply to the _Enterprise_ themselves but as Pavel was top of the class, they refrained from further commentary and kept quiet.

But the reality had been somewhat more complicated.

Even though Pavel played cool in front of his classmates and pretended to have already sent off his application to Captain Kirk, he actually didn't dare to do so until the very last opportunity before the deadline. The truth was, Pavel had been tormented with self-doubts. Would he really be good enough for the _Enterprise_? Just out of the Academy, would his practical excursions on Toluna 7 and on a Starfleet science vessel provide him with enough experience for duty on a starship? Would the brilliant Captain Kirk accept such a young navigator?

The great reputation of Captain Kirk and his ship aside, there had been one decisive factor that finally gave Pavel the strength to submit his application. During his four years at the Academy, to say he had only heard good things about the _Enterprise's_ Science Officer was an understatement. The tutors had made it a fashion to rave about him and regularly used his research findings in their lectures. Consequently, Mr. Spock had attained a somewhat legendary status among the cadets. The ambitious strove to learn as much about his working patterns, his research and his findings as possible. The cynical dismissed the Vulcan as some kind of Starfleet myth, an unrealistic benchmark they could never reach, consciously set up by their tutors to make them work harder and aim higher. Pavel privately shared both notions and what's more, he didn't believe them to be actually in conflict with one another. He was well aware that he would never be able to come even close to the Vulcan's scientific achievements. But Pavel's stubborn nature dictated him to seek the opportunity to learn as much as he could from the man. And reading and analysing Mr. Spock's papers just wouldn't suffice. Pavel dreamed about assisting this 'myth' with groundbreaking and challenging scientific tasks- on the Bridge of the _Enterprise_.

An application _had_ to be sent off.

_So this is my first story and it's going to be quiet a long one (around 10 Chapters probably). The Prologue and First Chapter are expositional, in the 2nd Chapter the conflicts are established and then the s* starts to hit the fan as they say. I've already got the first 4 or 5 chapters outlined so this story will be finished! But I'm already working on an even longer one (an EPIC!) but probably I'll write shorter ones in between because if and when that one will see the light of day-who knows, it's written in the stars!_

_Feedback, comments, thoughts are very welcome! I very much look forward to them but please bare with me as my venture into fan fiction has just begun :) I also don't have a Beta Reader yet and don't really know how to go about it (remember, I'm a FF newbie). If anyone's interested, just let me know. I'm happy to provide feedback in return._


	2. Welcome aboard!

**Welcome aboard!**

Chekov put on his yellow uniform for the first time. He scrutinised himself in the mirror. His fingers stroked gently over the insignia that identified him as a crewmember of Ship's Operations- a golden arrow pointing to a golden star. That's where he was now, where he had always wanted to be. Among the stars. A proud grin appeared on the young ensign's face. Even though he had only set foot on the _Enterprise_ the day before, Chekov already knew why the flagship was supposed to have the most loyal crew in the fleet. It was because on the _Enterprise_ the crew was not only loyal towards their captain, but towards one another.

When Chekov's application had been approved by Captain Kirk 8 weeks ago, a letter from Lieutenant Sulu accompanied the conformational message by Starfleet. As Captain Kirk had been on landing party duty on the planet Deneva at the time, Sulu had taken it on himself to write to Chekov. No interstellar memo, no electronic message, an actual _letter_ written with real ink, on real paper! Chekov had never seen anything like it. Written in beautiful handwriting, the letter communicated Captain Kirk's greetings and compliments and noted that he was very pleased that Starfleet had approved of his choice to assign Chekov. The main reason for the letter however was so that Sulu could personally introduce himself to his new colleague. The helmsman believed it was only sensible to volunteer his assistance should Chekov have any queries regarding his new environment. After all, they would be working side by side from now on and it would help to get to know his new shipmate as soon as possible.

Pleased and excited by such a personal and totally unexpected direct communication from the _Enterprise,_ Chekov had replied straight away. Impressed by Lieutenant Sulu's old-fashioned but stylish way of communication, Chekov had sat down in his quarters on Toluna 7 to write a letter back. In actual fact, it was the first letter Chekov had ever written on paper.

In his first letter, he simply voiced his gratefulness and honour to join the _Enterprise_ crew. He was too shy to ask the many questions he had. In actual fact, he felt a little embarrassed by his own curiosity regarding the _Enterprise_. Chekov had countless questions about professional as well as recreational procedures on board, but he felt he could not waste Mr Sulu's time with such childish musings as to what the galley had to offer for breakfast or if the _Enterprise_ had a swimming pool. Not to mention his youthful curiosity regarding the female contingent on board, a curiosity he was reluctant to admit to anyone as he deemed it to be a highly unprofessional concern.

However, Chekov soon realised from Lieutenant Sulu's regularly delivered letters that he needn't worry. The helmsman was more than happy to answer Chekov's questions, a mission he fulfilled thoroughly during his seemingly abundant recreational time. Chekov was amazed to hear that Sulu found time to entertain various very different hobbies ranging from botanics, to martial arts and historic terran weapons. Consequently, Chekov felt encouraged to ask most of his questions and even received a deck plan. With a relieved smile, Chekov noted that his own quarters (lovingly marked by Sulu with a red X like on an ancient treasure hunt map) were next to the helmsman's. How convenient to be housed right next to the all-knowing Lieutenant, Chekov thought to himself.

Mr Sulu's entertaining letters gave the young recruit a personal insight into professional procedures on the ship he would call his home for four years. But most importantly they also gave him the notion that he already had a friend even before setting a foot on the _Enterprise_.

Grinning mischievously, Sulu came up the first step of the transporter platform to greet Chekov with a strong slap on the back as soon as he had materialised. As Chekov wasn't accustomed to the beaming process yet, he felt a little dizzy and Sulu's friendly slap made him stumble down the last step. In that precise moment the doors slide open and Chekov found himself involuntarily catapulted into the arms of the man that had just entered.

'Hello to you too, my son.'

Thankfully, the man had caught Chekov just in time, preventing him from crashing straight into the wall of the transporter room. Sulu shrugged his shoulders innocently and exchanged an amused look with the transporter operator.

Blushing, Chekov took a step back. He quickly straightened up and held his head up high to report to the older man, obviously a senior officer who had come to greet him.

'Pavel Andrewich Chekov reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard, Sir.'

'I believe you've already _flown _aboard, Ensign' the man mumbled with a clear, undisguised Southern drawl. He sounded rather grumpy. Probably he wasn't too keen on catching recruits mid-air that weren't able to stay on their feet, Chekov thought gravely.

Sulu looked like he had expected the officer and he nodded knowingly towards Chekov. But the young Russian was momentarily occupied with studying the transporter room floor, probably more out of embarrassment than actual interest.

'See, what did I tell you Chekov? Doctor McCoy wants to run an additional medical on you!'

_Ah,__so __this __is __Dr. __McCoy_, Chekov thought as he stared at the floor, not knowing where else to look. Sulu had already warned him about the doctor's thorough medicals (his quarterly conducted examinations of the crew exceeded Starfleet standards of one annual check by far).

And about McCoy's reputation for emotional outbursts.

Chekov hoped one of such wouldn't follow his involuntary display of clumsy ballet on the transporter platform.

But when he finally managed to look up, Chekov was relieved to see an amused glint in the doctor's crystal blue eyes. McCoy scrutinised him and seemed to bounce slightly as he directed a sideways glance at Sulu:

'I have to! All those space travellers cramped into one place- it's a hub for viruses and bacteria down there! If you're not ill already, you usually are after a medical on a starbase!'

With that he gestured Chekov to follow him out of the transporter room. Chekov dutifully complied and after a quick nod towards Sulu he followed McCoy into the busy corridor. Before the door closed, Sulu managed to shout after Chekov that he would oversee his belongings were beamed aboard and taken to his new quarters. Chekov was grateful for that, because judging from Sulu's warning, he didn't expect to leave Sickbay any time soon.

'The Captain is currently engaged in a conference call with Starfleet, Chekov. That's why you had to do with Sulu and my good self as a welcoming committee' McCoy explained as they walked towards the turbo lift.

'Zank you, Doctor McCoy'. Chekov had to smile at this. The thought that Captain Kirk had wanted to greet him personally filled him with pride. He was just one of many new recruits that joined the _Enterprise_ on a regular basis. Surely, he couldn't greet all of them personally whenever one of them came aboard?

Distracted for a second by his musings, Chekov noticed that he had fallen behind, as the doctor was a few steps ahead of him. He was hardly able to take on all that was going on around him, the labyrinths of corridors, populated by dozens of men and women in blue, yellow and red uniforms that seemed to know exactly where they were going. Chekov quickly caught up with McCoy and asked himself if he'd ever find his way around this gigantic starship. The confusion he felt must have been reflected on his face, because McCoy suddenly laughed and put a hand on Chekov's shoulder as they entered the turbo lift.

'We're going to Deck 4 now. And as long as you know where that is, you'll be just fine!'

The lift rushed upwards, quickly passing Deck 2 and 3.

'Zat's because Sickbay is on Deck 4?' Chekov offered with a convinced look on his face.

'Because the Cafeteria is on Deck 4!' McCoy replied with a wide grin.

The lift doors slid open. 'Oh, I see. Zank you for informing me of zis, Doctor.' Chekov said as he followed McCoy into the corridor.

Sickbay was just a few doors away. As they stepped into the clean and quiet area, Chekov noticed immediately that contrary to the personal reputation Dr. McCoy had, his place of work transmitted an atmosphere of tranquillity and safety.

'Don't thank me too much my boy. Before I let you go there or anywhere, you gotta stay here for a bit. I don't trust those medical facilities on starbases. God knows what kinda hybrid bacteria is breeding down there, with all those travellers constantly coming and going.'

Chekov suddenly felt an uneasy rumbling in his belly. If it had to do with Dr. McCoy's predictions or if it simply were nerves, the Russian didn't know.

Without further ado, the doctor grabbed his medical scanner and gestured towards a diagnostic bed.

'You don't want to spread any starbase bugs around the ship, do you?'

'No, Sir.' Chekov said and shook his head. There wasn't time for any more exclamations, because McCoy promptly got hold of his arm and placed the ensign onto the bed.

To Chekov's surprise the medical Dr. McCoy conducted was actually the most pleasant he had ever endured. Not for the actual examinations and tests themselves, they were as boring as usual, but due to McCoy's friendly chatter. The good doctor didn't seem to be so bad after all. Not only did he want to know about Chekov's medical past and general physical and mental condition, but he also seemed to display an honest interest in his upbringing and training at the Academy. Due to the doctor's gruff but warm welcome in the transporter room and because of his professional yet pleasant conduct during the examination, Chekov immediately felt at home onboard the _Enterprise_. And he arrived only an hour ago! The attractive and lovely Nurse Chapel who assisted Dr. McCoy was another reason why, after a while, Chekov leaned back on the diagnostic bed with a relaxed sigh and crossed his arms behind his head. He was already looking forward to his next cold so that he could spend some time in Sickbay under the nurse's supervision.

'So apart from navigation, do you have any other areas of expertise, Chekov?' McCoy asked while checking the blood pressure on the diagnostic screen. He gently retrieved Chekov's right hand from behind his head, forcing him to lean forward again. McCoy put his fingers on the young man's wrist to confirm the screen's showings. Chekov had to grin at this old fashioned method no doctor had ever performed on him.

'Oh, I'm also trained in General Sciences, Doctor', Chekov answered with undisguised pride, 'I'm to directly assist Mr. Spock.'

At this, McCoy took his eyes of the screen. For a moment, he observed Chekov's face that beamed with pride, before he turned his attention back to the screen.

'My sincere condolences', the doctor muttered.

Chekov frowned and scratched his head. What did the doctor mean? Was Assistant Science Officer a particularly dangerous post?

McCoy seemed to have read the concern on Chekov's face. A wry smile crept over his face as he padded Chekov's shoulder:

'Nothing to worry about my boy. You'll just have to work with a computer.'

'A computer, Sir?'

McCoy laughed out loud at Chekov's puzzled look. 'You'll be all right, Chekov. Knowing Spock, he will take good care of you!'

The second part of the sentence sounded more like a threat to the ensign and he leaned back, feeling a little exhausted all of a sudden.

McCoy left the room to undergo a few tests with Chekov's blood samples. The navigator noticed that a deep frown had crept upon Nurse Chapel's soft face. Alone now, she seized the opportunity to rectify her superior's harsh comments:

'Don't let Dr. McCoy scare you, Pavel. Mr. Spock is a brilliant science officer. I'm sure you'll get along just fine.' She smiled and followed McCoy into the lab.

Chekov was on his own for the first time since boarding the _Enterprise._ He had just arrived but felt that he already got to know some key personnel aboard the ship- the enthusiastic helmsman Mr. Sulu, the very kind head nurse Chapel and the direct and sharp Dr. McCoy who didn't seem to be on best terms with Mr. Spock. Chekov wondered if this was because Vulcans lacked emotion. Surely, this could cause conflicts with such an emotional individual as Dr. McCoy. But as he leaned back on the biobed, Chekov decided that the doctor's problems with Mr. Spock wouldn't need to bother him as long as _he_ would get on well with his new direct superior. And as long as he wasn't stuck with McCoy and Spock on some deserted island, the personal quarrel they had with one another would not need to affect him in the slightest.

_Ok, the next few chapters are in the pipeline. Expect some McCoy&Spock banter and some action as the adventure gets underway._

_Thanks if you have alerted this story :) It's good to know someone out there is reading it :) Feedback& thoughts are very welcome!_


	3. Complications

**Complications**

After two hours of thorough examinations, Doctor McCoy finally allowed Chekov to leave Sickbay and move into his quarters. The test results had confirmed the Ensign's perfect health, apart from a little high blood pressure, which McCoy connected to the young man's general excitement about his new life aboard the _Enterprise._

A look on the clock on his computer told McCoy that dinner was long overdue and he realised he was already late. While he hurried down the corridor towards the Cafeteria, he wondered if Jim had been able to make their usual dinner arrangement on time or if the conference call with Starfleet wouldn't permit him to make it tonight.

During the last few months, McCoy, Kirk and Spock had made it a habit to have their main meals together whenever work allowed it. In case Jim _was_ still around, McCoy would seize the opportunity to inform him about Pavel Chekov's safe arrival on board and confirm his perfect health condition. As the Ensign was now the youngest crewmembers at just 21, McCoy was particularly eager to find out what kind of initial duties Jim and Spock had in mind for the boy. He hoped the duties they would assign him to, wouldn't be too demanding initially. Even though Chekov was a bright and well-trained new recruit, he also seemed a little over-excited, a common phenomena amongst young crewmembers who were starting their first long term space assignment. McCoy had experienced on many occasions during his career that youngsters aboard a starship were prone too make costly mistakes, due to a dangerous mixture of a lack of experience and untamed excitement. In his opinion, the young Russian, just like any new recruit, would need at least a couple of weeks to settle in and adjust to his new surroundings before he should be burdened with the kind of highly responsible tasks Spock would surly have in store for him.

Entering the Cafe, McCoy was relieved to see both Kirk and Spock were still there. In fact, they were late as well. The Captain and his First Officer were just sitting down at their usual table in a quiet corner, away from the noisy centre of the large room that was usually occupied by younger and more vociferous crewmembers such as Uhura and Sulu. McCoy had to smile at the familiar sight of Spock gracefully walking behind the Captain and politely waiting for Jim to choose his seat first before sitting down opposite. As McCoy received his food from the replicator he grinned with satisfaction- it was good to get an opportunity rather sooner than later to talk to Jim and Spock about Chekov. He was also keen to find out about their next assignment.

'Evening Jim, Spock' McCoy greeted them as he sat down, carrying a bowl of chicken soup and a salad on a tray.

Kirk looked up from his meal, slightly guilty. McCoy frowned at the Captain's choice of dinner: Cheeseburger and French Fries. Typical!

Kirk sighed. Suddenly his appetite wasn't as great as it had been a minute ago. As he and Spock had actually been late for their usual dinner arrangement with McCoy, Kirk had assumed that the Good Doctor had already eaten. He had therefore opted for the tasty as opposed to the healthy option.

'I know what you're going to say, Bones...' Kirk started helpfully as he put down his fork that had stabbed several French Fries just before McCoy's arrival.

'You better keep it to yourself then! Otherwise your meal will be cold by the time you have finished sayin' it!' the Doctor said as he sat down next to Spock.

The words were delivered without taking a breath in McCoy's usual gruff tone but as he started his meal he gave Kirk an encouraging grin to continue with eating. The Captain happily complied, while McCoy stole a quick glimpse of Spock's choice. Like himself, the Vulcan had optioned for a soup, the smoky smell clearly identifying it as Plomik soup. Unfortunately this didn't present McCoy with the opportunity to criticise Spock's choice. The frugal Science Officer rarely gave the Doctor any reason to criticise his dietary habits and he privately wished that such sensibility would eventually rub off on Jim Kirk as well.

McCoy looked from one to the other as they quietly focused on their food.

'Anyone care to enlighten me where we're going next? What did you discuss with Admiral Keller, Jim?'

Spock's raised eyebrow and expectant look towards his Captain didn't escape McCoy and he knew intuitively that there had been an argument between Kirk and the Commanding Officer of Starbase 2.

Kirk sighed. 'I'm afraid there won't be any shore leave for the crew in the immediate future, Bones. We were assigned on an emergency rescue mission'.

McCoy pressed his lips into a thin line; he had seen it coming. That's just typical- they all needed a break and what they got was an emergency rescue mission! The crew in general was in good health, but overall the men and women aboard the _Enterprise_ were tired, stressed and overworked. Their shore leave was long overdue and had already been cancelled twice due to unforeseen circumstances. Unfortunately one such unforeseen circumstance had involved McCoy and an overdose of Cordrazine. He shivered just thinking that word in his head. In any case, McCoy had submitted a sharp and clear report to Starfleet that shore leave had to be undertaken very soon if any possible mistakes by a crew member due to exhaustion had to be avoided, not to mention possible long-term effects on the crew's general health and an overall low resistance to illnesses.

Kirk's gaze wandered through the unusually quiet Cafe. Like it was usually the case at this time of the evening, it was very busy and crowded. The room would then become quiet hot despite the air ventilation system, and the doors were left open which only invited more people to come in who were passing in the corridor. But despite the large crowd, conversations were sparse and quiet. Even Uhura seemed absentminded as she stared into the distance across the rim of her coffee cup. The crew was tired and it showed in their free time when they could afford to display their exhaustion. On duty, no crewmember would allow himself to give the impression of being tired or stressed. Kirk pressed his lips. Apart from his own argumentation to reward the crew for their outstanding performances on this mission with some well-deserved free time, Kirk had referred several times to his CMO's report in his conversation with Keller, but to no avail.

Kirk watched as McCoy shook his head in disapproval.

'Bones, I know you don't like it as much as I do, but Keller has just received a mayday call from the Cassiopeia. We're on route to Adelous 4 from where the message was sent.'

McCoy frowned: 'Isn't the Cassiopeia one of the Federation's biggest delicum crystal transporters?'

'Correct, Doctor. After their mayday call the shuttle craft has apparently crash landed on the surface of Adelous 4 and since then Starfleet has not been able to re-establish communications with the Cassiopeia.'

'As we are the only starship in the proximity, Keller has ordered us to go to Adelous 4, look for survivors plus secure the freight if possible.' Kirk explained.

'I see.' McCoy didn't like the fact that shore leave was cancelled yet again, but in this case he could actually understand Starfleet's reasoning.

'It's just a shame that we have to carry the can again. The crew really deserves a break'.

Kirk's rather loud sigh spoke more than a thousand words and the Doctor knew how much it troubled his Captain to ask so much of his crew. They would of course follow his orders without even thinking about the fact that they were missing yet another opportunity of shore leave. Sometimes McCoy wondered if the men and women aboard the _Enterprise_ were even aware that they were _entitled_for a recreational break now and then.

'They fear the worst, Bones' Jim explained with a tired face that brought McCoy's musings to an abrupt end '40 crew missing and unaccounted for'.

McCoy nodded gravely as the bad news sunk in.

'As is Starfleet's quarterly supply of dilicium crystals in the Beta Sector'. Spock added matter-of-factly.

_'Damn_ those crystals! 40 people need to be rescued, Spock!' McCoy blurted out. He added solemnly: 'If they're still alive.'

'If those crystals are not retrieved in the next 50.5 hours, Doctor, all Starfleet operations in this sector will be severely disrupted and come to a halt. Including the _Enterprise_, as we have not been able to stock up our supplies at Starbase 2 as originally planed. It is therefore highly illogical to desire the Cassiopeia's freight to be lost to a terran mythological place of no return.'

McCoy had to catch his breath for a moment-but just for a moment.

'You mean _hell?_'

Spock's eyebrow disappeared in his hairline, a small sigh of impatience escaping his lips: 'I believe I have just said that, Doctor.'

'All I meant Spock, was that I'd rather have those crystals go to hell, than that crew.'

'May I note that your illogical commentary on a challenging situation is, like usual, not very helpful.'

Pearls of sweat started to appear on McCoy's forehead, his face slowly turning into a rather healthy colour. He wiped the sweat away with his sleeve. He wasn't sure that the overcrowded Cafe had much to do with his sudden exasperation. Like always when McCoy was getting irritated, his thick Georgian accent became even stronger.

'It's gettin kinda hot in here, doesn't it, Jim? I'd die for some ice tea. Ah, I know, I'll just put my cup next to you, Spock! How's that?' McCoy angrily put his cup down next to Spock's arm. His Vulcan shipmate however continued eating his Plomik soup as if nothing had happened.

Kirk put his coffee mug down poignantly. He favoured his two friends with a look of exasperated helplessness that he reserved only for moments as this, when he desperately wanted to stop one of their otherwise endless arguments.

'Gentlemen, my orders are clear. Crew _and _crystals need to be retrieved. I suggest you prepare yourself for landing party duty. We should arrive at Adelous 4 in about two days'.

'Two days, 2 hours and 45 minutes, Captain.'

McCoy briefly directed his eyes skyward while Kirk nodded benevolently towards his First Officer and got up. This prompted the Doctor to quickly finish his cup of tea in one gulp as he had no intention to stay seated next to Spock on his own. The CSO just raised an eyebrow at McCoy's abrupt departure from their table. The Doctor grabbed his tray and followed Kirk to the dish rack.

'By the way, Pavel Chekov is now on board and I have certified his health as in ideal condition.'

'Thanks, Bones. Also for reminding me. His arrival did get lost somewhere in my mind today. I will welcome him aboard tomorrow at the start of his shift'. Kirk sounded tired as he disposed of his empty plate. McCoy could sense Kirk's frustration. It was his custom to greet new crewmembers personally in the transporter room when they beamed on board. Providing the circumstances allowed it.

'Don't worry about it, Jim. You've got enough on your plate as it is.' McCoy said as he watched the Captain's _empty_plate disappear in the automatic dishwasher. _At __least __he __hasn't __lost __his __appetite __yet with __all __that __stress_, the Doctor was happy to note.

'Anyway, we were a splendid welcoming committee and our dutiful Mr. Sulu has forwarded your greetings.'

Kirk had to smile at the fact that his reliable helmsman had thought that much, as he himself had indeed forgotten to tell him to greet Chekov. Kirk's warm and absent-minded smile didn't escape McCoy, and he took the opportunity to say what had been on his mind all along: 'I recommend you don't put too much pressure on the boy straight away, Jim'.

'May I enquire to the reason for your wish, Doctor?' Appearing behind them quiet as a cat, Spock gave McCoy a mighty fright.

'Goddammit Spock! In case you haven't noticed yet, I don't have eyes at the back of my head!'

Spock just frowned, but didn't say any more. Kirk looked inquiringly at the Doctor. Just like Spock, he also wondered about McCoy's concern.

'Ensign Chekov is highly qualified and capable.' the Vulcan stated after he had disposed of his empty bowl and turned towards McCoy with a questioning look.

'But he's still a little _green_behind the ears, Spock', McCoy replied with a wry grin, 'you know the feeling.'

Before the Vulcan could answer the CMO turned to Kirk:

'Chekov is a little too over-excited and high strung at the moment, Jim. Call it intuition or a hunch, but I think it would be best to give him a few weeks to settle in before he's assigned with heavy duty. That's our normal procedure with all recruits, isn't it?' McCoy ended with a poignant look directed at Spock.

'Nevertheless, in this instance, your request is illogical, Doctor' Spock said in his neutral and calm tone that always made McCoy want to run out of the room, screaming. He shot a glare towards his opponent but this time the Vulcan beat him to it:

'As you said yourself, it is our practice under _normal __circumstances_ to allow young and newly assigned crew members some adjustment time during which they are assigned lighter duties. However, the circumstances are far from normal. The Navigator's post is vacant and needs to be filled immediately. We're on a rescue mission that requires urgency and unrestrained ability to act, therefore Ensign Chekov should start his shift tomorrow morning on the Bridge as scheduled.' Spock looked at Kirk, certain that his point would be confirmed in an instant.

'I'm afraid Spock's right, Bones. Mr. Chekov will have to be thrown into the deep end. It can't be avoided.' A short pause followed during which Kirk reflected on the brilliant references and grades Chekov had presented in his application 'But I've got the feeling the kid will surprise us all.'

McCoy pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew he was overruled. Like usual when the Doctor had the impression that Spock and Jim ganged up on him, he didn't look at either of them. Instead, he angrily shook his head, his forehead in one big frown. He also knew that they were right. Usually when two out of the triumvirate agreed on an issue, the third one knew that he must have gone wrong somewhere. McCoy did accept this fact to be a reassuring constant in their relationship, just as the other two did if they happened to find themselves being the odd one out. But of course, it didn't happen to Kirk or Spock just as often as it seemed to happen to him, McCoy was convincing himself. God, how those two could get on his nerves!

McCoy suddenly turned on his heels and strutted towards the door, leaving Kirk and Spock standing- Spock with a slightly tilted head and raised eyebrow and Kirk with an amused smile on his lips.

'But don't tell me I didn't warn you when the boy makes a costly mistake because he is overwhelmed by the pressure!' McCoy said as he hurried out of the overcrowded Cafe, relived that he at least had managed to get the last word.

_So far so good. There will be a major incident in the next chapter and more complications that will get the story really going. And of course more Spock and McCoy banter! Feedback, reviews are always welcome!_


	4. The Men From The Boys

The Men from the Boys

Even though he would never admit it to his face, McCoy had indeed been right- there was certain risks involved in letting Ensign Chekov take over the navigator position on his first day of duty. After all, they were on a tricky rescue mission and the exact circumstances regarding the Cassiopeia's disappearance were still unknown.

Spock leaned over his viewer at the science station. He was looking for any signs of human life on the surface of Adelous 4 or of any traces of the crashed shuttlecraft, so far without success. Captain Kirk had welcomed Ensign Chekov two hours earlier to his first shift on the Bridge and introduced him to the personnel. Spock was last to be introduced. The Captain and Chekov had stepped towards the science station where Spock was seated and the young navigator started to beam. He awkwardly expressed his honour to work with Mr. Spock. But as he hadn't reacted towards the outstretched Russian hand - shaking hands wasn't a Vulcan custom- the young man had quickly taken his seat next to Mr. Sulu at the navigational console. Since then the ensign had been focused and was giving all the correct replies to his own and Captain Kirk's enquiries or orders. Spock was pleased to note, that apart from Chekov's brief display of excitement when he had arrived on the Bridge, he hadn't shown any of the exaggerated human emotions McCoy had predicted. But Spock knew precisely what the statistics were regarding significant human errors committed during a starship's mission. 55.56 % of significant errors were committed by a crewmember during their first year of duty.

Spock reminded himself that it was illogical to ponder the relevance of this statistic, as they had no other choice but to 'throw Chekov in at the deep end' as the Captain had described the situation. It was a calculated risk they had to take, as the circumstances didn't allow alternatives. However, Spock admired Jim Kirk's ability to view apparent disadvantages in a positive light, as the Captain believed that Chekov could only benefit from shouldering responsibility straight away. Kirk had left his chair and put his hand on Chekov's shoulder shortly after he had taken his seat at the navigational console. He communicated the information they had gathered so far about the Cassiopeia's disappearance to him. With quiet but certain words Kirk had then informed Chekov that he was trusting his abilities unreservedly, without even referring to the fact that the young man had just graduated from Starfleet Academy. Like usual, Spock had been highly impressed with the Captain's excellent man management skills.

Suddenly, the iron indicator on Spock's sensor screen showed an unusual reading. For a few brief moments he investigated the measurements further until he had formed a clear conclusion.

'Captain'.

'Yes, Mr. Spock' Kirk turned around quickly in his chair as a subtle change in Spock's voice indicated that he must have made a significant discovery.

'I have identified a large metallic object on the planet's surface. A thick mass of cirrocumulus is currently obstructing my viewer of getting a clearer image. However, I'm getting exact readings via the sensor readings on the object's material and structural components: 49 % iron, 26.45 % copper, 25, 99 % delicium' at this he briefly looked up to give Kirk a meaningful look before he continued '2.04 %...'

'All right Spock, but no signs of human life?'

Spock shook his head. 'Not at the moment, Captain'.

Kirk sighed and got out of his chair. He took the few steps towards the science station in a few strides and joined the First Officer's side.

'Could this be the Cassiopeia, Spock?'

'Yes, Captain. It is a strong possibility. However, due to the current obstruction of my viewer, which according to my meteorological measurements will last at least one day, 23.50 hours, only a landing party would be able to confirm this hypothesis at the moment. Furthermore, as Adelous 4 doesn't feature any life, apart from certain bacteria, it would also be necessary to investigate this object, its origins and possible purpose further if it turns out not to be the Cassiopeia.'

'Purpose, Spock?'

'If this object is not the Cassiopeia, hypothetically it could be linked to the shuttle's disappearance.'

'Another space craft?'

'A possibility. I strongly recommend to beam down to investigate this object further while continuing our search for life forms via the ship's sensor readers.'

Spock's face was as neutral as ever, but Kirk had to smile at the slight hint of curiosity in his First's tone. Of course, Spock couldn't resist to investigate such an abnormal finding further if indeed it didn't turn out to be the shuttlecraft they were looking for.

Kirk grinned benevolently at the Vulcan: 'I'm happy to give you the opportunity to satisfy your curiosity Mr. Spock, and will agree to a landing party.'

Spock's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

'May I remind the Captain that curiosity is a human phenomenon'? Spock deemed it necessary to remind Kirk that he didn't approve of being accused of possessing such an unfavourable character trait. 'I merely aim to fulfil my purpose of constantly attaining new information and data, Sir'.

'Haven't I just said that?' Kirk replied with a smile, well aware he was using one of Spock's own phrases against him. As the Vulcan looked stubbornly past him and didn't give the impression of offering a reply, Kirk attempted a friendly gesture and put his hand on the Vulcan's shoulder:

'I'm aware of your purpose, Mr. Spock. On Earth we would call a person with such an inclination... _curious_'.

Kirk smiled benevolently at Spock but as his friend seemed to stiffen even more under his touch he quickly withdrew his hand from the Vulcan's shoulder. Kirk turned around and nodded towards Scotty at the engineering console:

'However, as this is most likely the Cassiopeia down there and as the delicium crystals on board need to be secured in a complex technical fashion only Mr. Scott is familiar with, I will send our Chief Engineer and two of his assistants down before I agree to an additional landing party.'

Kirk could detect a hint of disappointment on Spock's face, but he had made it a policy to only send absolute essential personnel on landing party duty. Too many crew members had already lost their lives on previous planetary missions and Kirk always asked himself if the deceased had really been essential to the landing party in the first place.

'But if this is _not_the Cassiopeia and Mr. Scott deems the circumstances save for further investigation, I know who I will send down next'.

Spock nodded dutifully, turned around and sat back down at his science station to continue his scan for human life forms on the planet.

Scotty, his technical right hand man Lieutenant Brown and delicium crystal expert Lieutenant Monet assembled in the transporter room. Brown and Monet were carrying specially prepared containers, which they would use in case the Cassiopeia awaited them on the planet. The Chief Engineer had briefed his assistants to secure the delicium crystals as soon as they would reach the shuttle. The crystals only maintained their energy in an air-locked environment and could under no circumstance be exposed to the planet's atmosphere. Otherwise, they would loose their energy charge and turn into worthless stones in an instant.

With a relaxed smile, Scotty turned towards transporter engineer Kyle who was waiting for the coordinates from the Bridge. This was going to be an interesting mission, the Scotsman thought. He loved the nitty gritty of retrieving and securing delicium crystals, a skill he didn't share with too many of his colleagues as it required an extremely still hand and years of experience in handling the precious material. It would be a great opportunity for Brown and Monet to practice their skills. If only the Cassiopeia crew could be retrieved as easily...Scott's thoughts were interrupted by a voice from the com unit on the transporter console.

'Spock to Transporter Room'

'Kyle here, Mr. Spock. Ready to receive coordinates'

Scotty nodded towards his assistants to follow him onto the transporter platform. He took the first step onto the platform when suddenly a massive force hit the whole ship. The impact was accompanied by a deafening bang that came from the crunching outer shells. Scott knew instantly that the _Enterprise_was under attack.

The whole Bridge crew was catapulted out of their chairs the moment the ship was hit by the unidentified force.

'Shields are up, Sir' Chekov shouted towards the Captain with his voice raised a little too much. Kirk was steady on his feet first, helping Lieutenant Uhura back onto her chair.

'Red Alarm! Report, Mr. Spock!' Kirk quickly joined the Vulcan's side at the science station.

'Unknown force has hit the ship frontally, Captain.'

Sulu: 'Velocity down to impulse power, Sir.'

Kirk: 'Increase speed to maintain orbit, Mr. Sulu'. Sulu nodded, his fingers quickly flying over the colourful buttons in front of him 'Orbit maintaining, Captain.' He exchanged a quick look with Chekov to his right that said: Welcome aboard!

Kirk checked the large viewing screen in front of them that still showed the planet they were orbiting. 'Any information from our viewers, Mr. Chekov?'

Chekov quickly switched through all the directions and angles the viewers did cover: the front of the ship, back of the ship, above, below, to its right, to its left-without any sign of an alien vessel or power source on the planet.

'Negative, Sair, our viewers detect no signs of any space wessels or of any abnormalities on Adelous V.' Chekov turned around to face his CO with a rather helpless look.

'Keep scanning the planet and our spatial vicinity, Ensign'

'Aye, Sair!'

Kirk looked over to Uhura who just shook her head. With one hand adjusting her earpiece and the other pressing buttons on her station, she confirmed her gesture with words:

'No subspace communication and no communication from the planet either, Captain. Medium damages to outer shells, assessment and repairs in progress, 12 crewmen treated for minor injuries.'

'Thank you, Lieutenant'

Kirk turned back to his CSO: 'Spock, who or what hit us, and from where?'

Spock rose from his station to face the Captain: 'All I can confirm at this moment is that we were hit by a powerful wall of energy at the front of the ship, which reduced our speed by 70% to impulse power. However, it is certain that the ship wasn't damaged by an energy we usually associate with interstellar spaceship weaponry as the outer shell is not burned or melted, rather it is crushed.'

Kirk gave him a puzzled look: 'Crushed?'

'Captain, this yet unidentified power is most fascinating in its direct effect on the ship's exteriors. Any known possible impact on the ship, hostile or from natural causes such as space debris or a meteor shower would have resulted in the outer shells being burned or radiated to a certain degree. Judging from our damage, we have crashed into an invisible buffer.'

'A buffer? You're saying this was no natural cause, it was a power with a purpose, like someone trying to push us back, or to...' Kirk searched for the right words ..to _stop_us?'

'This is the most logical conclusion at the moment, Captain. I shall continue my scanning of the ship's outer shell to ascertain more facts on the nature of its damages'.

'What about the landing party, Spock?

At that precise moment, Scotty called the Bridge.

'Scott here, Captain.'

Scotty had followed the events on the Bridge during the last 5 minutes or so from the transporter room. The channel was still open since Kyle's communication with Mr. Spock had been interrupted by the sudden impact.

'Yes, Scotty!'

'We were following yer conversation with Mr. Spock right naw and I can tell ya I dun like it! Our remaining delicium crystals are already drained as it is and the ship wasn't prepared for combat Sir, just to undergo a rescue mission! And I know what yer going to say Captain, but I urge you to send us down to retrieve those crystals immediately as our shields will not be powerful enough for many more of those funny bangs! Ready to beam down, Sir!'

Despite the puzzling and dangerous situation, Kirk gave Spock an amused look, wondering about Scotty's ability to talk like this without taking a breath. Spock replied with a raised eyebrow.

'May I remind you Mr. Scott, that we have no prove yet if this object on the planet surface is really the Cassiopeia. And I won't transport anyone during an attack.'

Chekov exchanged a worried look with Sulu who gave him an encouraging smile that seemed to say: don't worry, we've been in such situations before- and we're still here, aren't we?

'Aye. But we should take our chances, Captain, we won't withstand many more of those attacks.' Scotty's voice sounded through the com onto the Bridge, its personnel exchanging worried looks at the CEO's grave assessment of the situation.

Kirk didn't like the idea of sending down a landing party while being under attack from an unidentified, yet clearly hostile source. Spock read Kirk's thoughts correctly and knew that with his next statement he wouldn't ease the Captain's concerns for his crew but would at least help him to make the right decision. He tilted his head slightly towards the communicator so that Mr. Scott could hear as well:

'Even though I have to disagree with you insofar Mr. Scott, that 'taking chances' is an irrational way of action, I agree that your argumentation is logical. As I have computed the probability of the Cassiopeia being the object I have identified on the planet to be 85,43% certain, it would be illogical not to beam down in the light of possibly retrieving the delicium which would guarantee protection for the ship.'

Kirk sighed and managed a nod. Scotty and Spock were right. He couldn't risk the _Enterprise_ remaining vulnerable for much longer. He couldn't just assume there wouldn't be any more attacks. That would be foolish.

Just then the _Enterprise_ was shook by three consecutive massive jolts, stronger than the previous one. Each jolt was accompanied by a loud, high-pitched whinging noise as if the engines were being tortured. The Bridge personnel stumbled around, trying their best to keep at their stations, the noise of the third and loudest jolt tormenting everyone's ears.

Scotty and his assistants tumbled away from the transporter console. The Chief Engineer helped Lieutenant Kyle up who had fallen to the floor.

'We're losing orbit, Captain. Speed reduced further to sub-impulse power'. Sulu's professional tone couldn't hide his concern, Chekov wasn't pleased to notice.

'Divert all engines to impulse power, Mr. Sulu, maintain orbit!' Kirk reached Sulu's side as if his physical proximity would help the helmsman to follow his command. Sulu's hands flew over his keyboards:

'Negative Captain, the engines are working correctly but...something is in our way'.

Uhura was first to realise that the officer who had manned the engineering station next to the doors, had knocked his head on the console during the turbulence and was now unconscious on the floor.

'Dr. McCoy to the Bridge, one crew unconscious'. Uhura ordered before she went over to the injured man.

Kirk directed a swift, grateful look towards Uhura who had knelt down next to her shipmate.

Chekov looked at his hands. To his surprise he noticed that they were sweaty. He quickly wiped them on his trousers and put them back on his console.

'Sulu?' Kirk put his hand on the helmsman's shoulder.

'Our orbit will decay in exactly 44.3 seconds Captain, if we can't resume impulse-power.'

'Shields holding at 56 % Keptin' Chekov chipped in.

'Give it all you can to maintain orbit, Mr. Sulu!' Kirk spun around to Spock: 'Prepare emergency thrusters to catapult us out of orbit.'

Spock rushed to the engineering console, seemingly ignoring the injured engineer on the floor who until a few minuets ago had looked after this station.

McCoy arrived on the Bridge just as Sulu turned around to face Kirk: 'No use Captain, I can't proceed any further without imploding our engines'.

McCoy rushed to the engineer on the floor who was bleeding form a nasty cut on his forehead. Unaware that the extend of their predicament necessitated immediate action, McCoy frowned at Spock who stood above the injured crewman, eyes fixed on the engineering computer, apparently ignorant of his shipmate's condition.

'Thrusters ready in 22.79 seconds, Captain. Time to orbit decay 25.67 seconds.'

'Captain, it's now or never, giv'us the coordinates!' Scotty banged his hand on the transporter console and shouted into the com unit.

Jim Kirk had to make a crucial decision in a split second: keep the landing party on board and thrust out of orbit to only relative safety. They would no longer have the ability to beam men onto the planet to retrieve the crystals as they would be out of transporter range. If they were attacked then, they would have no energy left to maintain the shields.

Or take the chance of beaming down three men during an attack for an 85% chance of finding the Cassiopeia and retrieving the crystals. After the landing party had been beamed down, the ship would still have to thrust out of orbit but the range would be sufficient to beam back the crystals. With the delicium on board, the _Enterprise_ would be able to maintain their shields and retrieve the landing party.

But a beaming process under attack was extremely dangerous and he would have to risk the lives of three men.

'Coordinates, Mr. Chekov!'

Chekov jumped up from his seat and rushed to the science station where Spock had stored the coordinates that would beam the landing party into the direct vicinity of the metallic object. Without the time to double check the coordinates were still correct, Chekov transferred them directly to the transporter by the touch of a few buttons.

'I'm sending ze coordinates now to ze transporter, Mr. Kyle.' Chekov shouted into the com. His unnecessary loud voice made his blood rush into his head and to his dismay Chekov realised he was blushing.

Kirk kept on looking tensely in the ensign's direction. A brief moment later, that felt like an eternity to Chekov, Kyle replied:

'Beaming process completed'.

Chekov unnecessarily repeated this information to Kirk who had already turned back to Spock:

'Thrusters, now!'

Another powerful jolt made everyone sway. But this time the Bridge crew had been prepared for the sudden increase in speed and everybody was holding on to their consoles. Spock turned around to Kirk, an almost inaudible sigh escaping his lips:

'Out of orbit at 44 201 kilometres, Captain. Impulse power...' Spock checked the engineering console.

'...restored'.

Kirk looked over to Spock with an undisguised smile of relief.

'So is this man' said an equally relieved looking McCoy at the sight of the engineer on the floor. He had just regained consciousness thanks to his emergency treatment. The Doctor helped the man back into his seat.

Lieutenant Boateng held his head but otherwise he looked relatively relaxed as he was blissfully unaware of the tension his shipmates had endured during the last few minutes. Uhura informed Kirk of substantial but not critical damages to the ship's exteriors and a handful of minor to medium injuries amongst the crew. Kirk quickly checked on Boateng and the rest of the Bridge crew to confirm their well-being and was relieved to find them unharmed. Keen to get back to his own station as soon as possible, Spock left the engineering station and passed Boateng and McCoy without a word or any sign of relief regarding the engineer's fate - or all of their fates for that matter. Combined with the stress of the previous minutes, McCoy was infuriated by the Vulcan's reaction, or better, the lack of it. He directed his gruff Southern drawl towards the CSO:

'Oh, it's good to see _you_ are unharmed too, Mister Spock!'

Back at his station, Spock turned towards McCoy, eyebrows skywards:

'Why, thank you, Doctor'.

With amused smiles all around, with the exception of McCoy, Kirk felt that a good old Spock-McCoy quarrel was exactly what the crew needed right now, just to release the tension a little. But then he noticed that Chekov, who was still sitting at the science station, wasn't joining in the laughter. Pale as a sheet he looked up from the scanner.

'Keptin, Sair...' he started, lost for words. Kirk came up the steps towards him. Chekov looked for the right words but the knot in his throat seemed to suffocate him.

'What is it, Ensign?' Spock got hold of the back of the chair Chekov sat on and gently turned the young man towards him.

'Ze landing party, Sair...is not on ze planet.'

_Thanks for all of your lovely feedback so far, please keep it coming! Reviews are always welcome. The next few chapters shouldn't take too long! _


	5. Consequences

**Consequences**

Chekov sat silently at his station, unable to explain what had happened. McCoy padded his shoulders, but the young man couldn't look up. Lieutenant Kyle had confirmed that the coordinates Mr. Spock had saved on his computer had been correct and that the beaming process had been completed. Spock's computed coordinates correlated directly to the object on Adelous 4 and the landing party should have materialised right next to it. However, a complete sensor scan of the planet had confirmed that there was no sign of human life on the planet. Neither of the Cassiopeia crew, nor of the landing party. Nor was there any sign of dead bodies. All they knew was that Scotty, Brown and Monet had dematerialised and if they had indeed re-materialised elsewhere, they had done so anywhere but on Adelous 4. Chekov asserted that he had transferred the exact coordinates to the transporter that had been saved on Mr. Spock's computer, but as evidence pointed against his claim, Kirk and Spock concluded that the Ensign must have made a mistake during the data transfer. After all, he had been under significant pressure during the recent peril when he communicated the coordinates to the transporter room.

Kirk took a deep breath and stepped down from his chair towards the navigation console.

"Did you double check that the coordinates Mr. Spock had computed before the attack did still correspond to the object on the planet before you send them to the transporter computer?"

"No, Sair, I didn't... I believed zere was no time, Keptin."

Chekov lowered his eyes in shame. He just couldn't believe that he had probably cost three men their lives. He didn't even think about the consequences for his career. His career was lost. He was a _murderer,_ unintentional, but a murderer nevertheless.

"You had 8.2 seconds to double check the data, Ensign."

Spock stepped down from his station and came to an halt opposite Chekov, Kirk and McCoy. The doctor sent the Vulcan a look that would have shut up a Harry Fenton Mudd on Klingon energy pills. McCoy felt a strong urge to put sticky tape over Spock's mouth. Unfazed, the Vulcan continued in his rational assessment of the situation.

"Unfortunately, the actual coordinates you transferred to the transporter computer can't be checked at the moment due to a fault in its memory banks, inflicted by the recent attack."

"So zere is no way we can know where Mr. Scott and zhe others have been transported to" Chekov stated, looking even more beaten.

"That is correct, Ensign" Spock replied matter-of-factly "at least for the moment."

The First Officer turned to Kirk who was watching Chekov intensely.

"Captain, I would like to examine the transporter computer and see if I can retrieve any useful information."

Kirk nodded and walked back to his chair where he hit the com button. "Kirk to Lieutenant Kyle. Mr. Spock is on his way to assist in the repairing of the transporter memory banks."

"Acknowledged, Sir." came Kyle's muffled reply.

"Kirk out." He ended the communication by smashing his palm on the button. The Captain positioned himself in front of Chekov, demanding his attention.

"You've made an error under pressure, Mr. Chekov."

"I know Keptin...I'm sorry" was all Chekov managed say.

"Until the situation has been fully examined and we have determined the coordinates you transferred to the transporter computer, you remain on duty. Disciplinary action will become necessary if your fault has been confirmed beyond the reason of a doubt." Kirk continued in his strict command tone.

Chekov stared at the floor but nodded.

"You know Chekov, unfortunately we all have committed a serious mistake at some point in our career" McCoy sighed. Spock raised both of his eyebrows at this but remained silent. "It's how we deal with them, that counts."

Chekov felt that even though the Doctor was probably right, such a revelation didn't make him feel much better.

"Yes, Sair. I understand." Chekov pressed his lips and held his head up high. He had to remain strong. There was still a tiny bit of hope that the men would be located alive. And maybe, just maybe, this would mean that he hadn't made a mistake after all.

Suddenly, a warm smile appeared on Kirk's face. Chekov had expected anything, a tirade, shouting, unforgiving blame from the Captain but this genuine smile took him by surprise.

"Pavel..." Kirk put his hands on Chekov's shoulders, which startled him just as much as hearing his Christian name coming from the Captain's mouth.

"...you're a talented and promising ensign. Being under such pressure as we have just experienced is not an excuse for a mistake, but it makes them possible. We will find out what has happened. Until then, I'm expecting your full attention."

"Yes, Sair...but Mr. Scott and the landing party..." Chekov muttered quietly. He felt Sulu's compassionate glance, but he felt too ashamed to look at his friend.

Kirk strengthened his grip on Chekov's shoulders: "Don't beat yourself up, Ensign! I want you to assist Mr. Spock with repairing the memory banks of the transporter."

For a short moment, Chekov looked intimated by the prospect of assisting Mr. Spock with repairing the transporter computer. But he got up without hesitating.

"Yes, Keptin." Chekov quickly followed Spock off the Bridge.

McCoy put his hand on Kirk's arm and took him to the side.

"Do you think it's such a good idea to let Spock ruin the last ounces of Chekov's self-esteem by ordering the boy to assist him now?"

"Bones, I'm offering Chekov a way to help solve this mess. We _have_ to find out what happened to our men! If I go soft on him now, he might lose his focus completely."

McCoy sighed a breath of exhaustion: "By God, I hope Scotty and his guys are alive."

Spock and Chekov had been working quietly in the transporter room side by side for several hours. They had checked every single circuit, connection and part of the memory banks possible, in the hope to retrieve the coordinates Chekov had transferred to the transporter computer and determine the landing party's fait. Lieutenant Kyle assisted them as much as he could, but even the transporter expert was short of any fruitful ideas as to how to solve the critical task at hand. Now and then Kirk dropped by to check the process first hand only to return to the Bridge with a disappointed face and no news for Uhura, Sulu and the others.

Spock knew very well that the ensign was desperate to find a way to somehow undo the mistake he very likely had committed and to prove his worth to his comrades and superiors. Chekov was displaying all signs of a human tormented by guilt that only those experienced who had inflicted suffering on other human beings. However, Spock was not willing to try to 'comfort' Chekov with any of the superficial phrases Dr. McCoy had used when he tried to convince the ensign that '_there's __always __hope __until __we __have __recovered __their __bodies'_ or _'we __all __have __committed __a__ serious __mistake __at __some __point __in __our __career' _when in actual fact Spock had never committed a serious mistake. A rigid Vulcan mind didn't allow lenience. Spock didn't seize to be amazed by the Good Doctor. McCoy was somehow maintaining his ignorance towards Vulcan superiority regarding discipline, even though they had worked side by side for a year now.

Spock made sure that Chekov was involved in their efforts to reinstall all transporter functions and its memory bank in the hope to retrieve the coordinates. If there was a chance that the landing party was still alive, Spock wanted to make Chekov understand that they would become aware of this fact and also act upon it accordingly. If it would turn out that Chekov had indeed committed a serious mistake, rectifying it would be the only realistic option for the young man to successfully continue his career in Starfleet.

"What about default settings, Mr. Spock?"

Chekov asked after several fruitless attempts to reinstall the main memory bank circuit. It had literally been melted away by a fire near the main computer banks, attained during the second, more volatile attack. For hours they had tried to fix a data storage device that actually didn't exist anymore, apart from a few platinum chips and cables, but all their efforts had been in vain.

"Do you mean factory settings such as automatic positional adjustment?" Kyle asked with a frown as he looked up from one of the platinum chips he and Mr. Spock were analysing.

"Exactly, zat's what I mean!" Chekov nodded eagerly "if I remember correctly zere should also be an _automatic __repeat __function_ which repeats the last used coordinates."

Spock exchanged a quick look with Lieutenant Kyle who just shook his head in disappointment, believing that the young ensign was looking for straws to cling to. The Vulcan got up and approached Chekov who was trying to mend two disconnected cables of the interior memory bank.

"I'm afraid Mr. Chekov that none of Starfleet's starships is ever run on factory settings. They are always changed within the first days of a ship's maiden voyage, adjusted and calibrated by the engineers and command personnel to suit their professional requirements and personal preferences."

Chekov sighed. "I know. Transporter engineers hate ze automatic adjustments functions" -Kyle nodded at this- "as it takes ze 'job' out of zeir hands, so to speak."

Spock listened patiently as he could see from the ensign's determined eyes that he had real hope.

"But what if the factor settings' repeat function could somehow be reinstalled? Subsequently."

Chekov asked with a questioning look directed from Spock to Kyle and back to his superior. After a moment of contemplation, the SO raised an eyebrow and nodded:

"Indeed. We could attempt to retrieve the actual data you've send to the computer as those were the last coordinates used by the machine. Providing the automatic repeat function is still operative and hasn't been damaged."

For the first time since those fateful minutes on the Bridge a few hours ago, there was real hope in Chekov's eyes.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Kirk sat in his captain's chair, eyes fixed on the screen that showed nothing but empty space in front of them and Adelous 4 in the far distance. They had maintained a wide orbit around the planet on impulse power, as Kirk wanted to make sure they scanned the planet and the nearby space for the enemy who had attacked them. Even though he was desperate to find out who was behind the attack, and why it had happened, the question that tormented Kirk the most was what had happened to Scotty and his men. While his crew was safe for the moment, the CEO and his two assistants' fait were unclear. They could be dead or alive, safe or in danger, anywhere or nowhere in the Universe. Another distressing question was if the attack and the disappearance were connected somehow. The uncertainty all those questions provoked hung like a dark cloud over the Captain's head. Hence, the nasty headache he had developed during the last few hours was becoming worse by the minute. He looked up gratefully as McCoy appeared on the Bridge with one of his 'magic' pills as Kirk liked to call them.

"Thanks, Bones" Kirk hastily swallowed the yellow pill and smiled at the doctor who scrutinised him with worried eyes.

"Any news from the transporter room, Jim?" Just when Kirk shook his head, Spock called through the com unit.

"Spock here, Captain."

"What is it, Spock?" Kirk and McCoy exchanged a serious look, clear concern in the eyes of both men.

"Captain, we have successfully reinstalled the transporter computer's factory settings including certain standard functions which can be adjusted and modified according the requirements of each starship and its mission."

While Spock was talking without taking a fresh breath Kirk's expression turned increasingly impatient. Full of anticipation, he leaned forward toward the com and grabbed the armrest of his chair.

"Cut to the chase, Spock!"

"I'm not aware of chasing anything, Captain."

The voice from the transporter room sounded slightly baffled.

"Unless of course, you are referring to my pursuit to find a solution for the problem at hand. However, I'm inclined to refer to it as..."

McCoy was about to explode with impatience and interrupted:

"Are you joking, you green-blooded Vulcan? In God's name, tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Doctor, I believe that..." Chekov, who could no longer hold himself back and dared to interrupt his superior, interrupted Spock's calm and unaffected voice. He sounded out of breath.

"We have reinstalled ze repeat function, Keptin, and can send a probe to ze exact coordinates I have given to ze transporter computer earlier on!"

Spock slowly turned around at the young ensign, his eyebrows sky-high. He didn't approve of being interrupted, however he had become quite accustomed to it in his years in space alongside humans, especially since he was serving alongside Dr. McCoy. Ensign Chekov was also a prime example of his race.

Kirk had congratulated Spock, Kyle and especially Chekov for their excellent work and the Russian had beamed like a 5 year-old on Christmas Day.

Kirk had reacted hopeful towards the ensign's idea of sending a probe to the coordinates Chekov had communicated to the transporter earlier on, to see if it materialised at a specific location or if it would be destroyed in the process. The simple but robust long-range communications probe Hoffmann 7, had been deemed the best possible candidate by Spock and Lieutenant Kyle. It would be the guinea pig which would hopefully herald a rescue mission.

The transporter was still so severely damaged that even though they would be able to beam the probe to the last coordinates used, it wouldn't be able to communicate the coordinates data back. It would take at least 4 more days until the transporter would be fully operational again and this function would become an option. Captain Kirk was not prepared to wait that long. They had to act now. Thankfully, the probe could also be used as a communication device to transmit encoded Starfleet messages. Mr. Scott and his assistants were familiar with such codes and if they would encounter the probe they would know how to communicate through it. Furthermore, if the coordinates would transport the probe into empty space it would also be able to communicate back to the_Enterprise_that it had re-materialised in the would then know for certain that the landing party had met a tragic fate. But if the probe was beamed on a planet where humans could survive, Scotty and the others would encounter the Hoffmann 7 and be able to communicate back.

Kirk knew that the chances were slim for a positive outcome. He also had a hunch that the whole incident was connected to the unknown enemy that had tried to 'push' the _Enterprise_ out of the local vicinity. If they only could attain more information on who attacked them and why. Maybe Chekov had transmitted the correct coordinates after all but the attacker had somehow intercepted and altered them? If that was the case, they would at least know that it hadn't been Chekov's fault should the results of the probe turn out negative. If the incident could be blamed on the invisible alien attacker the youngster's conscience would be freed of its guilt.

The Captain's mind was occupied with those thoughts as he watched the young navigator nervously playing with his hands, eyes fixed on the floor, while the leading officers gathered in Conference Room 2. Apart from Kirk, Spock and Chekov, McCoy, Sulu, Uhura and Kyle were present at the crisis meeting.

Uhura was just finishing her report on how long it could take the probe to reply to the _Enterprise_ or a Starfleet outpost. Her proposed time-scale spanned from an immediate reply to thousands of years in the future, depending on the distance from the destination the probe had been transported to and the ship.

After his initial enthusiasm, Uhura's discouraging computations, made Chekov feel as disheartened as he had been before his breakthrough idea. He was well aware that the transporter was capable to beam an inanimate object of a small size that far away, if the coordinates dictated so, but the disassembled molecules of a human body would not survive such a distance. Hence, the longer it would take the probe to reply, the more unlikely it would be that Scotty and his men were still alive.

"50.34 minutes."

Spock reminded everyone of the exact time left they were allowed to hope for a reply. After that time the probe would be too far away for any human to have survived the beaming process.

Chekov looked like he'd like to disappear into thin air. McCoy directed a sharp look towards Spock which was received with a raised eyebrow that reached the SO's hairline. The doctor crossed his arms, but uncharacteristically, he refrained from replying to Spock's mimicry with a critical comment. Bones didn't want to unnerve Chekov any further.

The sombre mood in the conference room was becoming more unbearable with any minute that passed. Even Sulu's light-hearted attempts to entertain the attendees with stories of his newly attained flesh-eating plant from Rigel 6 were met with tired smiles. Kirk sensed how the pressure was staining Chekov's nerves. The ensign was white as a sheet. McCoy exchanged a worried look with the Captain. Kirk got up and put a hand on Chekov's shoulder. The navigator was startled by the touch and lifted his head.

"You may wait in your quarters if you prefer to do so, Pavel. There's no need for you to wait here. In fact" - at this the captain turned to the others - "you can all chose a way to pass the short time left that seems bearable to you."

No one got up. The thought of being alone right now didn't appeal to anyone.

"May I request to stay with you, Sair, I mean with the officers?" Chekov blushed at his own clumsiness but Kirk replied with a warm smile

"Of course."

Because scans had indicated no enemy vessels or alien presence on Adelous V or in the wider vicinity of the _Enterprise_and as the Bridge was in the safe hands of the Gamma shift, there was no need for any of the attending officers to be on their posts. Indeed, all they could do at this moment was wait. And they preferred to wait together. A soft smile appeared on Kirk's lips as he thought of this and he gratefully took a glass of Brandy from McCoy's hand. The doctor had left the room a few minutes earlier to _'get __some __medicine'_ and had returned with a large bottle of his best Saurian Brandy.

"Time's up, Captain." Spock's calmly spoken words were still ringing in his ears. Chekov had exchanged a brief look with Sulu, sensing his friend's agony at his own desperation. He had immediately requested to return to his post, stubbornly maintaining a brave face even though he was screaming inside. But he couldn't fool Captain Kirk. His CO had send him directly to his quarters with the unambiguous orders to 'relax' until further notice.

Now, Pavel was lying in his bed but contrary to the Captain's order he was wide awake and far from being relaxed. Mr. Scott and his men were dead and it was his fault. A fatal mistake on his first day on the _Enterprise _had cost three good men their lives. Pavel turned on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Tears welled up in his eyes. How he wished to talk to his parents right now. Especially to his father who was so proud on his achievements. But how could he ever explain his mistake to them, how could he tell them of his carelessness? Pavel started to sob and wasn't even ashamed to do so. There was nothing he could do.

_Review! As always, comments and feedback are welcome. This was a rather 'technical' chapter but the next chapters will focus on the human (and Vulcan) conflicts again._


	6. The Quiet of the Night

**The Quiet of the Night**

Bones lie awake in his quarters. The events of this long day still fresh in his mind, his thoughts were with Scotty, Brown and Monet, or rather, with their molecules that had been spread all over the galaxy. He shuddered and told himself what seemed to be the hundredth time to stop envisaging how the chief engineer and his two assistants had met their fate. Otherwise he would never be able to take his place on the transporter platform ever again. God, how he hated that blasted machine.

Bones turned from one side of his bed to the other, resigning to the fact that he wouldn't sleep much tonight. He put his right arm under his head and glared into the darkness of his quarters. Here he was, contemplating his stupid fear of the damn transporter when three of their men had just been declared dead. Bones angrily shook his head. Why in God's name couldn't he grief for the lost men? Two young, excellent engineering assistants and the most amazing technical 'miracle worker' he had ever had the pleasure to work with. And had the honour to call a friend.

A sad smile crept on Bones' face as he recalled the countless times he and Scotty had shared a glass of Scotch or Brandy in the evening (preferably of Terran or, on special occasions, Saurian origin). They would often muse about the fact how much their different jobs had actually in common- the Scotsman fixed the ship while the Southerner fixed its crew. Bones felt his eyes dampen and he angrily wiped away the tears before they were shed.

He frowned-why could he not accept that Scotty was gone? Was it the shock of the loss of a dear friend; was it his natural attitude as a physician to never accept a death unless you saw the _dead_ body before you, felt the cold skin, closed the expressionless eyes of the empty shell that used to be a sentient being, with no other choice left but to accept the truth; was it his extreme stubbornness which he only ever admitted when he was pressed by the two people on board that rivalled his own pigheadedness; or was he not able to grief because of something else, maybe a hunch, an intuition? Somehow Bones _felt_ that Scotty and his men weren't dead. The Doctor growled to himself as he imagined Spock's reaction to such a hunch- granted, Bones would get another lecture on how his mind was working in illogical ways. But the CMO never mistrusted his intuition. It usually was right.

But how could it be right this time?

Bones turned back onto his left side into a more comfortable position. If night wouldn't provide him with some rest, at least it was giving him the time to hopefully bring a little peace to his troubled mind. He certainly had a whole lotta more thinking to do before the morning.

Bones' thoughts now focused on the young Russian. Chekov's promising career was at stake. Apparently, he had made a costly mistake by transferring the wrong coordinates to the transporter computer. But was that really the case; was the young man really to blame for the disappearance of the landing party? After all, they had been under attack of that strange energy at the time. Maybe it had somehow interfered? Bones sighed. He possessed far too little astro-physical knowledge to form a clear judgement in that matter.

Since the three attacks and the transportation of the Hoffmann 7 probe, they hadn't detected any trace of that unknown energy again that had stopped the _Enterprise_ in her tracks like an invisible buffer and had caused substantial damage onboard. Shortly after the Hoffmann 7 probe had been beamed to the same coordinates like the landing party, the energy field had actually disappeared as quickly as it had appeared a few hours before. The source and the exact form of the energy was still unknown because during the attacks Spock and the science department had gathered only very little data from their scans. Frustrated, Bones shook his head as he realised yet again how much a starship crew was relying on technical data. If not even Spock was able to formulate a substantial theory as to what had happened, why should the _Enterprise's_insomniac CMO be able to do so by basing his suspicions on a _hunch?_

The Captain's mind however worked in yet another way all together.

Even with hardly any knowledge about the origins and nature of that unknown energy, Jim had voiced his suspicion to Bones and Spock that it could have been a controlled and coordinated attack by an intelligent enemy and that the transportation process had been interrupted on purpose. While Spock didn't discard such possibilities, he didn't support them either as he didn't want to 'take a guess' on the basis of too little data. As no communications had been established to an alien attacker and there wasn't any other evidence to support Kirk's suspicions, Bones felt that they were merely grounded on his friend's relentless desire to protect his ship. For Jim it was easier to defend the _Enterprise_ against an enemy he could put a name to, but an unknown power like that strange energy field was deeply unsettling to the Captain.

The shipstill maintained a wide orbit around Adelous 4 and would remain there at least another day until the engines were completely repaired and they were able to establish Warp drive again. The search for the _Cassiopeia _and its crew was still at the top of their to-do list, however Starfleet had acknowledged the _Enterprise's_ momentary predicament that was putting the rescue mission on hold. Right now, the severely damaged starship hung in space helplessly with three of its own men confirmed dead and forty missing crew of a sister ship it still hadn't managed to account for.

But even if it should turn out that no alien attacker had interfered with the beaming process and that the energy field could be attributed to natural causes only, would this really make Chekov the sole culprit? Would they ever be able to establish what actually happened during those frantic minutes on the Bridge?

Yet again, Bones turned around restlessly in his bed. In any case, there was one thing he was dead certain of. He was convinced that if the young Russian wouldn't have found himself in a highly demanding situation on his first day of duty, in a situation that presented him with pressure he could not cope with due to the lack of experience, things would be better for all of them now. If Kirk and Spock had only listened to his concerns regarding the boy! Bones knew that Jim had had his doubts about throwing Chekov into the deep end. But the Captain had been too easily convinced by Spock's ruthless attitude that they couldn't afford to allow Chekov time to get used to his new surroundings. How on earth could that blasted green-blooded hobgoblin expect a computer-like efficiency from all crewmembers, regardless of their age, rank or experience?

Angry, McCoy pushed his blanket away and sat up in his bed. That was it- one thought of that computer on two legs and any hope of getting some sleep was out the window! He turned around to his bedside-table where he usually kept his 'medicine' that helped him during nights like this. But his hand only grabbed into thin air. McCoy sighed as he realised that he had left the bottle of Saurian Brandy in the conference room. That was definitely not a sensible place to leave it, as the next group of officers that would hold their meeting in there could be tempted to help themselves to a little liquid inspiration. And by God, they could all do with some inspiration right now.

McCoy got up with a long yawn, changed into his blue uniform and black trousers and headed out into the corridor.

The conference room was just on the deck bellow. It would only take a few minutes to get hold of that bottle and get back to bed for one more attempt to either fall asleep or at least drift into some light slumber before the morning shift.

McCoy jumped and nearly screamed. In one of the corners of the dimly lit conference room something big had just moved.

He had went for the table with the Brandy bottle straight away, without looking around the room. Naturally, he had not expected anyone there at this ungodly hour.

"Doctor, why are you still awake?" A deep and calm voice asked from the dark corner.

Spock turned away from the computer screen to face McCoy, his raised eyebrows indicating he was just as surprised as the CMO to encounter anyone else at that time of night.

"I got an excuse for being awake- I left my sleeping medicine!" McCoy grabbed the bottle with a suspicious look directed at the Vulcan "What's yours?"

Spock's eyebrows rose again. "I don't need an excuse to withdraw from sleeping, Doctor. Vulcans need 74% less rest than humans."

McCoy glared at Spock. Still angry from his recent musings about the First Officer's ruthlessness towards Chekov, he was in no mood for a dose of his wisdom right now.

"Spare me your lectures on Vulcan superiority at this hour, will ya? I just wanted to know what ya doin' in front of the computer at 3 AM in the goddamn morning?"

A small sigh escaped Spock's lips.

"I'm using this quiet time to go over Lieutenant Uhura's calculations regarding the probe's communication radius and the geographical trigometer scans again."

To answer McCoy's questioning look Spock continued quickly: "I have of course substantial justification to do so."

McCoy froze at this but before he could demand of Spock to elaborate the CSO continued. "However, I must admit, I'm puzzled about the powers of your multifunctional 'medicine', Doctor. If memory serves correctly, you used it earlier on to 'bring everyone back to life'. And now you're planning to use it to get yourself to sleep. But then, why should your medical remedies be any less contradictory than your character?"

With this, Spock turned back to the computer screen. The Vulcan obviously had a reason to be in a good mood and that could only mean he had made a some discovery regarding what happened to the landing party.

McCoy was so relived at this that he even forgot to be insulted. His curiosity had a calming effect on the Doctor as his anger had to take a back seat in his mind. He pulled the cork from the bottle, which resulted in a loud 'pop' noise and poured himself a drink. With a glass in hand, taking small gulps, McCoy stepped behind the First Officer. His blue eyes fixed on the screen, the Doctor nodded towards the computer.

"Mind sharing your late-night discoveries with a contradictory country doctor, Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan turned towards McCoy whose serious face didn't reflect the mocking tone in his voice. Contradictory indeed, but Spock knew the Doctor well enough not to disregard his request. The CMO was very concerned about what had happened to the missing men and his interest was genuine.

"Lieutenant Uhura's calculations appear to be exact and complete regarding the probe's possible destinations in this Universe."

McCoy took a quick breath. He had immediately picked up on the crucial word in Spock's statement.

"_This_ Universe, Spock? You mean it could have been transported to another?"

Spock nodded slowly. His hesitation however indicated to McCoy that the Vulcan wasn't entirely convinced yet.

"There is a slight possibility that this could have been the case, Doctor."

Baffled, McCoy stared at him.

"How, Spock?"

The Science Officer folded his hands, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. When Spock replied after a few moments of hesitation, McCoy had the impression that there was a hint of frustration in his voice, if that was possible for a Vulcan.

"Doctor-the energy that has damaged the ship and brought it to a halt is of an unknown kind and according to the library computers has never been detected before. Hence, our great difficulty to analyse the readings as we have no point of reference. I would also need additional scans of the energy field to supplement the limited data we received during the attacks. But as you know, unfortunately the field has dissolved shortly after we transported the Hoffmann 7 probe. Consequently, I regret that my theory to explain the recent events is incomplete."

Again, McCoy picked up on the crucial word in Spock's elaboration. He might be just an ol' contradictory country doctor, but when it came to decipher Spock's speech, McCoy was gradually becoming an expert.

" _Incomplete_, Spock? That means you got at least some idea as to what happened!"

When Spock didn't give any indication to reply to this and simply continued with focusing his gaze at the screen, McCoy crossed his arms angrily. He knew the First Officer didn't like to speculate and only drew conclusions when he was 100% sure about something. But Spock couldn't expect McCoy to shut up and stop asking questions after having planted some outrageous ideas in his mind.

" Do I have to get down on my knees and beg you, or are you going to tell me what's going on in that Vulcan head of yours voluntarily?" McCoy growled.

Spock frowned but decided not to test the Doctor's patience any longer, as he seemed to get more irritable the later the evening, or the emptier the bottle of Saurian Brandy. A small sigh escaped his lips as he turned to face this most irrational of humans.

"As I have just explained Doctor, I haven't been able to formulate the fundamental construction of this energy yet. However, through my detailed analyses of the three-dimensional trigonometry scan readings that were taken during the attack, I _can_confirm the energy field's exact geographical position at the time of the collisions with the ship."

McCoy nodded eagerly, encouraging Spock to continue with his report.

"Consequently, I have been able to conclude that this energy field not only forced the _Enterprise_out of the vicinity of Adelous 4, it actually _obstructed_ the space between us and the planet, preventing us from entering it."

"Meaning what?" McCoy asked impatiently.

Spock sighed again. For a man who was preoccupied with the transporter, the Doctor knew very little about the machine's functionality.

"As the transporter beam always takes the direct and shortest way to carry molecules from A to B Doctor, it must have travelled through the energy field and the space behind it to reach the surface of Adelous 4 to the spot where I had intended to beam down the landing party."

McCoy nodded slowly as he pondered the implications of Spock's findings. The report sounded plausible. And it could mean good news, at least where Chekov was concerned.

"This means Chekov probably didn't make a mistake after all when he transmitted the coordinates to the transporter room. The energy field messed them up."

"This is the most plausible explanation at the moment, Doctor. However, we can only be sure beyond the reason of a doubt when the transporter computer's memory banks have been full restored and the coordinates the ensign transmitted can be confirmed."

"I see."

McCoy pressed his lips. He was relieved to hear that there was some hope that Chekov wasn't to blame after all. But what did all this mean? Spock's findings were quite something.

McCoy took another sip of Brandy and leaned against the table as he contemplated that strange energy field. After a few quiet moments during which the Vulcan focused his attention back on the computer screen, the Doctor voiced his thoughts.

"We might not know _what_ this energy is Spock, but maybe we know what it _wants._" McCoy mused quietly.

Spock raised his eyebrows "Want, Doctor?"

"You said, it prevented the _Enterprise_ to enter the space between us and the planet. It seems like the energy field _protected_ this area of space from us penetrating it. Maybe Jim was right after all that there was some unknown intelligence involved."

Spock nodded slowly as he pondered McCoy's interpretation. "So far, the data only confirms that we were obstructed from entering that area of space. But your and the Captain's interpretation is build on the assumption that the energy field appeared at that precise moment in the time-space continuum for a purpose. Such purpose would indeed indicate some form of intelligence. However, we have no concrete proof of this and no communication has occurred."

McCoy sighed and slumped into the chair next to the Vulcan. "Of course I'm only guessin', Spock. Maybe it was just a goddamn coincidence that this energy appeared when we passed though that space!"

McCoy took another sip from his glass as his thoughts started to drift off.

"Who am I to always understand why something happens out here?" McCoy asked no one in particular as he directed his glare towards the disserted table in the middle of the conference room.

Even though Spock was focused on the computer, the shadow that suddenly clouded the Doctor's face didn't escape him.

Every time Bones lost a patient he asked himself that same old question- _why?_Was death just a random occurrence he couldn't control or did it have a purpose, a higher meaning? And what if he was able to actually save someone? Was that just a coincidence as well, albeit a lucky one, or was there a deeper meaning behind it?

If he only knew the answers to those questions. But would they make life any easier?

Spock seemed to sense the Doctor's desperate thoughts somehow because he finally took his eyes from the computer screen and turned towards his colleague.

"To explain 'why something happens' Doctor, is my responsibility as Chief Science Officer. Don't burden yourself with questions even I can't find answers to." Spock said without the usual tone of arrogance in his voice. Instead, his characteristic aloofness had been replaced by...self-incrimination? Empathy? Could it be?

_Don't__ turn __all__ human __on__ me __all__ of __a __sudden_ McCoy thought to himself. That pointy-eared hobgoblin, always good for a surprise. McCoy smiled and gently shook his head as the dark thoughts from a moment ago were pushed to the back of his mind. If McCoy wouldn't have been so desperate to make sense of Spock's report, he wouldn't have let the Vulcan get away with such an unashamed display of his human half. But this was not the time for their usual battle of insults.

McCoy leaned forward to search Spock's face for further clues to hep him make sense of what the Vulcan had told him. His face was as rigid as usual but the CMO couldn't help to see frustration in the First Officer's dark eyes.

"Spock...let me try to sum up what you told me, all right? Are you sayin' because we don't really know the exact circumstances of that energy field, we also can't know for sure what happened to Scotty and his men when they were transported through it? That they might not be dead after all...?"

Spock nodded slowly, his voice controlled but gentle.

"Indeed. Their deaths can't be confirmed and their fate is again unknown to us."

McCoy stared at the floor. This uncertainty was gradually becoming unbearable. But Spock wasn't finished yet with his conclusion.

"However, the Hoffmann 7 probe has also been transported through the energy field into that 'protected space' as you have put it."

" You mean it could still reply?"

McCoy felt a ray of hope warm his heart; hope for Scotty, Brown and Monet but also for Chekov.

"I'm currently checking our sensors which are focused on this particular area in space. To give a precise answer to your question, I first need to understand the exact conditions of the energy field and the space it obstructed."

McCoy refrained from further questions because he felt that Spock had to focus on

his task and he didn't want to distract him. He would need to try to remain patient.

The Doctor put his drink down, suddenly wide-awake and his recent desire to get some sleep was long forgotten.

A few quiet minutes passed during which no word was spoken. Finally, McCoy could no longer hold back the question that had been nagging him since Spock had started his latest scan.

'Spock...the energy field has disappeared hours ago. Why are you still observing the empty space out there?'

Spock didn't look up from the computer, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"It's not 'empty', Doctor. For 1.29 hours I have been detecting very similar energy fluctuation readings to those we received 1.30 hours before the attack. At the time, I attributed them to a recent meteor impact on Adelous 4's moon..."

The Vulcan's eyes suddenly seemed to flash with recognition as some readings changed dramatically on his computer screen.

"...I was mistaken."

Spock's hands moved into hurried action as they flew over his keyboard. His usually upright posture stiffened even more, signalling McCoy that something significant was happening. The CMO leaned forward to get a better view on the computer screen.

"What's going on, Spock?"

"Doctor, as I have predicted, the energy field has just reappeared at precisely the same geographical coordinates as before. I request you give me time to conduct my sensor scans. We finally have the opportunity to analyse the energy field sufficiently without the distraction of fending of an attack."

McCoy quickly wiped over his tired eyes. His body felt incredibly exhausted, but his mind was wide-awake. The astro-physical readings and data on Spock's computer only made little sense to his physician eyes, but he was able to interpret at least some of the large amount of data the Vulcan was processing. McCoy didn't dare to interrupt Spock's analyses even though curiosity was killing him. Judging from the readings, McCoy realised it was a good thing the _Enterprise_ was still hanging motionless in space, unable to move due to the damages attained during the three previous collisions. Another collision with the energy field could prove to be fatal. But as the field didn't move and remained fixed to exactly the same spot where it had appeared before, there was no immediate danger it could collide with the ship.

The minutes went by as McCoy watched the Vulcan with growing concern. Spock's dark eyes got even darker, a frown appearing on his forehead. McCoy knew the CSO well enough to understand that he was deeply troubled. He couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Goddamnit Spock, talk to me!'

Spock took a deep breath. He didn't seem to be sure what to make of his findings but McCoy disregarded his hesitation. He put his hand on Spock's arm, forcing the Vulcan to react to him.

"What is out there, Spock?"

His frown deepening, Spock finally turned around to face McCoy. The Doctor could not remember to have ever seen the First Officer look so obviously baffled and concerned. To a neutral observer Spock would have appeared as calm and composed as usual, but McCoy had known him long enough to read the Vulcan's subtle signs of worry: the slightly tilted head, the quieter pitch of the deep voice, the negligence to hide his obvious concern from his eyes.

"Doctor, the measurements of the energy field indicate a breakdown of all physical laws known to us. This leaves only two possible explanations as to the nature of what we are confronted with. The energy field is _not_ a Black Hole because we are not attracted by it. This leaves only one option..."

Uncharacteristic hesitation was another sign that the Vulcan was deeply concerned.

"A _wormhole_, Spock?" McCoy whispered, his blue eyes flickering with shock and disbelief.

As his dark, dead-serious Vulcan eyes were conveying more than a thousand words, Spock had to nod just once.

McCoy grabbed his drink and downed it in one massive gulp.

_I guess this was the most challenging chapter so far as Spock's discoveries left me with some serious thinking to do as to how the story is developing :) I can give away that there will be another major development in the next chapter and also some back-story to clarify Spock's discovery and its implications._

_A big thank you to everyone who's baring with me and is reviewing this story. I set out to write a story with only a few chapters but now I realise there are at least 10 more to come! Please keep reviewing this story, your feedback and comments mean a lot to me! Thank you!_


	7. Hopes and Fears

**Hopes&Fears**

Just as Spock and McCoy were taking a moment to digest the Science Officer's groundbreaking discovery, a very excited Lieutenant Uhura called from the Bridge. She was working the Gamma shift with Sulu at the con when they detected the energy field as well. Unable to raise Mr. Spock in his quarters, Uhura finally managed to track him down in the conference room only to find that the First Officer was already aware that the mysterious energy field had reappeared. Spock ordered Uhura to call Captain Kirk and all key personnel to an emergency meeting. He had to inform them of his discovery immediately and they urgently needed to discuss how to proceed with their two separate rescue missions in the light of those new developments.

As Spock briefly summed up his discovery for Uhura via the com, the Communications Officer didn't attempt to hide her joy and reinvigorated hope.

" Mr. Spock, if the probe has really been transported to a parallel Universe through a wormhole, it would of course take longer for the probe's signal to reach us. Scotty...and the landing party..." Uhura's voice broke, strained by her internal fight between hope and desperation.

"Yes Uhura, Scotty and the others might still be alive after all." McCoy joined the conversation from his seat next to Spock, his gentle Southern drawl soothing Uhura and Sulu's worries. Just as McCoy was following the conversation from his seat next to Spock, so did Sulu who was standing next to Uhura at her communications station. The helmsman exchanged a worried look with his friend, the same struggle between hope and fear reflected in his eyes. But Spock asked his shipmates for caution when he summed up why it was mandatory that they all maintained a rational balance between those opposing emotions.

"Even if we do get a signal via the probe from Lieutenant Commander Scott, Lieutenant Brown and Lieutenant Monet, which would confirm that they are still alive, it doesn't mean we will ever be able to retrieve them."

Bones was a doctor, not an astro-physicist, but the implementations of Spock's baffling discovery an hour ago were crystal-clear even to him. The Doctor was on his way to Kirk's quarters to pick him up for the emergency meeting, which Spock had scheduled in 15 minutes at 0500 hours. Carrying a flask of freshly brewed hot coffee for himself and the Captain, Bones walked towards the turbo-lift that would carry him up to Deck 5. On his way to Jim's quarters, the Doctor recalled what he knew about wormholes. His astro-physical knowledge was limited, however he was _very_familiar with probably the most striking Starfleet legend about this mysterious phenomena.

In 300 years of humanoid space exploration only one apparent encounter between an observer and a wormhole had been recorded on file. But the story of this strange occurrence was more of a Starfleet fairy-tale than proven scientific fact.

70 years ago Captain Amir Azar was transporting provisions between Earth and Vulcan with his medium-seized freighter, the _Mercury_. The crew consisted only of himself, a pilot and an engineer. The two Federation control outposts on Vulcan and on Earth registered the_ Mercury_'s sudden disappearanc ehalfway into the journey simultaneously. But no attack had been detected and no wreckage was ever found. Furthermore, there had only been seemingly insignificant abnormalities in the space-time continuum in the vicinity where the freighter had disappeared. At the time, those abnormalities had been attributed to a recent solar flare.

The wildest conspiracy theories were formulated shortly after the _Mercury's_ mysterious disappearance, including tales about abduction by Vulcan dissidents, a Romulan act of terrorism and Klingon pirates that stole the apparent valuable goods the freighter was carrying. None of those theories was ever proven. After 2 years of reviewing the case over and over again, Starfleet finally stored the incident in their 'unresolved' file and ended their enquiry.

6 months later Azar reappeared on Rigel 7, literally out of nowhere.

Bones knew this famous piece of Federation folklore so well because one of his tutors at the Medical Academy had been a trainee doctor on Rigel 7 at the time and had encountered Captain Azar personally. This popular tutor, a man already well into his 70's, often shared his personal memories of Azar's incredible story with his students.

The man that had turned up at the Starfleet control post on Rigel 7 was unrecognisable. Always known for his calmness, his precision and reliability, Amir Azar had changed significantly. His neat appearance had been replaced by the look of a tramp- ragged clothes, long hair and a full beard, but in good health, as he claimed he had lived of fruit and vegetables for two years. But the change in his character was far more disturbing. Azar was violent, aggressive, angry and extremely nervous. Furthermore, he seemed to have lost his touch with reality completely. He claimed that the _Mercury_ had entered some kind of energy field that had suddenly appeared in front of them en route to Vulcan. The freighter and its crew spend the next three months in a state of limbo, trapped in a seemingly empty void, not moving anywhere. As the _Mercury_ was quite large and stocked with enough oxygen reserves and a freight of several hundred tons of terran vegetables and fruits, Azar's story was believable up to that point. It was the second part of his report that lacked all credibility. An excellent navigator with an extensive knowledge of the wider astro-geographical space including the Local Group_ (see footnote 1),_ the Captain claimed that after three month in a state of limbo, they suddenly found themselves in the Andromeda Galaxy, 2.5 million light years from Earth. He identified the galaxy with 100% certainty due to the constellation of certain stars, which he recognised to be part of this neighbouring galaxy of the Milky Way.

Bones had always listened in wonder when his tutor told them this amazing story. They discussed the case often- had Amir Azar been traumatised by some unknown event en route to Vulcan that resulted in mental disillusions or was he actually telling the truth, although it seemed illogical? Even at today's standard it would take a starship that was travelling constantly at Warp 8 98 years to even reach the Andromeda Galaxy. Azar could not have been right. His story became even more controversial when he insisted that his two shipmates had committed suicide when they realised where they had ended up, not able to cope with the knowledge that they would never be able to return home. Azar claimed that he was close to killing himself too but that his love for his wife prevented him from doing so. According to Captain Azar, he never gave up hope that he would see her again and stayed alive.

After drifting two years in space near the centre of the Andromeda Galaxy, the energy field the _Mercury_ had encountered on route to Vulcan appeared again, seemingly out of nowhere. According to Azar, after the ship drifted into the field, the energy heated the _Mercury _up so significantly that the interiors of the ship caught fire. Seeing no possibility to survive the situation, Azar opted to transport himself into empty space as a way of painless suicide.

He re-materialised on Rigel 7.

Bones had always belonged to the group of students in his class that believed that if such traumatising events had really happened, they would have changed a man's character as fundamentally as in Ahmir Azar's case. He somehow didn't believe the man was acting or making up stories. However, Azar's astro-physical claims couldn't be confirmed. Many scientists believed that Azar had indeed been trapped in an unknown area in space- but in the Milky Way Galaxy. However, there was a small group of scientists from all over the Federation who took Azar's claims serious and analysed them further. But there was no data to support his story, just the Captain's personal accounts. Bones' tutor recalled how Azar always told his story with a desperate voice and with fearful eyes, appearing like a man tormented by an incredible trauma. But no scientist was able to confirm his claims to be true. Wormholes were deemed physically possible, just as dark matter had once been deemed possible until it had eventually been detected. But until this day, the existence of wormholes had never been proven.

The sad irony of Azar's story was that because of his changed character his wife divorced him and he lived a lonely life at Rigel 7's medical facility until he died an old and lonely man. Until his last breath he maintained that his story was true.

McCoy shook his head in amazement as he remembered the sad ending of the story. He was just entering the corridor that was leading up to Jim's quarters and wasn't surprised to see Spock and the Captain were already coming his way. The First Officer did obviously have the same idea and had stopped by Kirk's quarters to pick him up for the meeting. Grinning, McCoy bounced on his toes as Jim smiled warmly at the flask in his hand. _If__ Spock __has__ any__ common__ sense,__he__ got __us __some__ doughnuts,_ McCoy thought, smiling to himself. But of course, the Vulcan hadn't. Kirk interpreted the grin on the Doctor's face as a reaction to his own longing look at the flask.

"Good thinking, Bones" he said with a nod towards the flask as the three of them entered the turbo-lift.

"Someone 'round here has to keep an eye on what's essential" McCoy chuckled, his eyes not leaving Jim's face. Spock just lifted an eyebrow.

While they rode towards Deck 1, Kirk directed a meaningful look towards McCoy and Spock.

"I have recalled Chekov on duty. He is attending the emergency meeting."

McCoy nodded, his support for the Captain's decision reflected in his eyes.

"I want to keep the ensign involved throughout this rescue operation" Kirk continued.

McCoy was more than just a little relieved that Jim continued to call what they were doing a 'rescue mission'. His thoughts returned to the start of this long night when he had been lying in his bed, wide awake and disturbed by dark thoughts of what had happened to Scotty and his men and the resulting implications for the young Russian.

Due to the unclear circumstances of the incident, he doubted Starfleet would actually punish Chekov in legal terms. But due to his crucial role during the event, he could face degradation and would possible end up with a desk job in the lower regions of Starfleet headquarters. And if that wouldn't be punishment enough for the young man, his guilt, justified or not, would possibly torment him for the rest of his life. That thought alone was enough to enrage the Doctor again. It reminded him how angry he had been with Spock when he had left his quarters to retrieve the Brandy from the conference room. In typical Vulcan manner, the blasted elf had then managed to distract him from his anger with a revolutionary scientific discovery!

But that was then and McCoy still had to pick a bone with the CSO.

When they hurried down the corridor towards the conference room, McCoy couldn't help but give Spock his piece of mind regarding his treatment of Chekov. The Vulcan had just stated that the chance of receiving a Hoffmann 7 signal from a parallel Universe lay between 89.87 and 128.40 to 1. McCoy felt a strange urge to laugh out loud and cry at the same time. Their chances were extremely slim, they knew that already. So why on earth did Spockhave to be so goddamn accurate all the time by translating the realties they were confronted with into cold, harsh data.

"I regret Captain that I haven't been able to conduct a more precise calculation in such a short period of time." Spock was strutting along the corridor determinedly, his head tilted slightly towards Kirk who was walking in the middle with his two friends at his left and right.

"Your calculation is precise enough to leave at least a little room for optimism, Mr. Spock" Kirk replied with a small smile "and this is more than I dared to hope for."

_And__ goddamn __Jim __for__ always __appreciating __Spock__ for__ being...Spock!_ Bones raged in his mind.

The CMO knew he was going to lose his temper, but in all honesty, he just didn't care anymore.

They were about to turn into the short side corridor that was leading toward the conference room, when McCoy quickly got in front of his superiors and blocked their way.

"Forget your blasted numbers for a moment, Spock! I wanna know why you haven't apologised for putting Chekov on heavy duty on his first day?" McCoy fixed his ice-cold blue eyes on the Vulcan who met his glare without blinking.

Kirk knew what the CMO's icy expression meant. McCoy wouldn't back off until he would get some kind of admission from Spock. The Captain looked on with undisguised concern but decided to stay out of the discussion for the moment.

"Why would I apologise for a logical decision, Doctor?" Spock didn't back off an inch. He calmly clasped his hands behind his back "Indeed, it would be illogical to do so".

The calmness in Spock's voice made McCoy feel his control gradually slip away. _You__cold-hearted,__green-blooded__son__of__a..._The doors of the turbo-lift opened and Lieutenant Kyle and Lieutenant Mendelson passed them with a nod as they headed towards the conference room. McCoy bit his lip and Spock walked on, following the officers towards the conference room. Kirk gave the Doctor a scolding look and followed the others as well.

But McCoy couldn't suppress his anger any longer. He rushed after Spock, stepped in front of him and put a hand on the Vulcan's broad shoulder, which stopped Spock and Kirk in their tracks, just outside the conference room.

"You cold-blooded hobgoblin, can't you stop thinking about logic for just a damn minute?" McCoy spitted out. Spock didn't move an inch and stared straight through the CMO, as if he was transparent. Only his slightly raised eyebrow indicated that he was listening to the Doctor.

"It was you who insisted to hand the navigator's post to the boy on his first day, even though we just embarked on an extremely difficult rescue mission! And now look what happened!"

"Doctor McCoy, may I remind you that I acted out of necessity." Spock now fixed his dark brown eyes on the CMO, a look that was totally controlled unlike McCoy's raging glare and the Doctor had trouble holding the Vulcan's gaze.

Kirk was really worried now. He had seen this dark look only a few times on Spock's face before. Usually it was bestowed upon an enemy they were encountering as a means to intimidate him. Even with their constant bickering, he had never seen Spock direct that look towards McCoy. The Vulcan was getting dangerously impatient with the CMO.

"And may I also remind you, that there is still the slight chance that Ensign Chekov hasn't committed a mistake after all, that his coordinates were correct but were interfered and altered by the wormhole. He would therefore be free from any guilt. In this light, I suggest you do not longer judge the Ensign's capabilities. If you would clear the way now, the Captain and I are scheduled to conduct the emergency meeting that also requires your presence."

Spock tried to walk around McCoy but his enraged opponent wouldn't let him. He kept his hand firmly pressed against Spock's left shoulder. Kirk watched on with great concern. If McCoy wouldn't stop this senseless debate, he would have to interfere any second now.

"I'm not judging Chekov, I'm judging _you_, Spock". Every word was accentuated in the Doctor's thick Southern accent. "Not your ability as a science officer, but your _personal_ judgement!" McCoy matched Spock's dark look with his ice-cold stare, refusing to give in.

Spock exchanged a quick look with Kirk. The Vulcan was not at all baring any blame and maintained his aloof posture. Jim read in his dark eyes that he was actually surprised at McCoy's comment but would never choose to elaborate on it. Nor would he continue to debate it further. A moment of deafening silence past between them.

Kirk took a deep breath, preparing himself to order his CMO to control his temper. But then Uhura stepped out of the conference room.

"Captain, the meeting can commence, we're all ready."

Kirk shot a quick, sharp warning look at McCoy before turning to Spock with a more encouraging look. McCoy's hand dropped from the Vulcan's shoulder. Whenever Kirk was forced to use his razor sharp 'no nonsense' look to shut McCoy up, the Doctor knew he had no other option but to give in. At least for the moment.

Kirk sighed a silent breath of relief in his mind, but his eyes maintained their serious expression. He turned to his communications officer who was waiting by the door for a reply.

"Very well, Lieutenant, so are we."

The Captain turned on his heels and entered the conference room. McCoy and Spock followed quietly.

At 0505 hours the meeting consisting of Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Sulu, acting chief engineer Lieutenant Mendelson and Lieutenant Kyle commenced. Chekov had also been ordered by the Captain to attend even though the navigator wondered why. What on earth could he contribute to this meeting? He had failed them all.

Without a word, Chekov took his seat next to Sulu and stared at the floor.

But then he lifted his head in surprise. Just before the meeting started, Captain Kirk came over and quickly summed up Spock's recent findings that indicated that the navigator had probably transferred the correct coordinates to the transporter computer but that they had been altered by the wormhole. Kirk wanted to break those encouraging news to the ensign straight way, even before Spock started his report. But Kirk also reminded Chekov that the incident would only be fully resolved, and his responsibility regarding the disappearance of the landing party confirmed or denied, when the transporter computer banks had been fully repaired.

Chekov allowed himself a small sigh. He agreed with Kirk that this were promising news indeed and vowed to his CO to continue to be of assistance in recovering the missing men to the best of his abilities. But as Kirk took his seat next to Spock and started the meeting, Chekov withdrew within his tormented mind again. Deep down inside his heart he knew, regardless if he was proven to be responsible for what had happened or not, that he would only be able to sleep in peace again when the three men were found alive.

At 0525 hours, Spock finished the report about his baffling discovery that the energy field in the local vicinity of the ship was a wormhole. The attending officers had exchanged surprised and amazed looks throughout his report.

Everyone was allowed to ponder for a moment the implications of Spock's discovery. Kirk felt it was comforting to know that the puzzle was starting to take shape. At least they were beginning to understand the power they were confronted with.

Then, just as he wanted to direct the discussion towards possible ways of action in the light of this new development, Lieutenant Riley called from the Bridge. Kirk knew immediately that something had happened. The young Lieutenant didn't even attempt to control his emotions as he _shouted_ into his com unit.

"Captain, Hoffmann 7 has replied! It just signalled us the officer numbers of all three landing party personnel _plus_ the brand-new turbo-lift programming code only Mr. Scott and myself are familiar with!"

For a few seconds, one could have heard a pin drop in Conference Room 2. Then jubilation and cheers erupted as officers hugged one another or padded each other's shoulders, accompanied by a cacophony of laughter and exhausted sighs of relief.

With unseeing eyes, Chekov slowly turned to Sulu who had just exchanged a strong hug with Uhura. The helmsman could read the desperate but silent question in his friend's eyes: _What __now_?

_/  
><em>

_To speak in soccer terms, I believe we're gradually approaching the halfway line or half-time whistle, folks. _

_Please review and comment, thanks!_

1 Here's a little background information: Andromeda is the largest galaxy of the so-called 'Local Group' which consists of the Andromeda Galaxy, the Milky Way, the Triangulum Galaxy and about 30 other smaller galaxies. The Andromeda Galaxy is a spiral galaxy and takes its name from the constellation Andromeda.

Due to the enormous size of the Milky Way – a diameter of 100000 light-years - nearly all Star Trek episodes and movies are set in our 'home' galaxy. As a guide to the relative physical scale of the Milky Way, imagine if the Solar System out to the orbit of Pluto was reduced to the size of a US quarter (approximately 2.5 cm in diameter) the Milky Way would cover an area of 3.286 million square kilometres- the total area of India, 3.287 million square km! Fascinating indeed!


	8. Where No Man Has Gone Before

**Where No Man Has Gone Before**

As he headed down the corridor that was leading to the science department, Kirk noticed a strange feeling in his guts. The last few hours were finally catching up with him. The Hoffmann 7 probe had replied but due to the ongoing fault in the transporter computer banks to which it directly responded, they still weren't able to determine what the exact coordinates of the probe - and the landing party- were. All they knew was that Scotty, Lieutenant Brown and Lieutenant Monet _had_re-materialised. But where – and in which Universe- the three men had ended up was written in the colloquial stars.

Kirk's legs seemed unusually weak as he struggled to maintain his fast pace. After the longest of days and the shortest of nights during which he only got two hours of sleep, the Captain felt exhaustion in every fibre of his body. McCoy's famous strong brew of Columbian Coffee had only had a momentary effect on Kirk's metabolism and he had been wide-awake and alert during the emergency meeting. But the worry over the missing men exhausted the Captain more than any sleep-depravation. Kirk decided to ignore his tiredness. Sleep had to wait until further notice.

It had only been a few hours since Lieutenant Riley's good news had brought a smile on everyone's lips at the emergency meeting and even Spock had allowed himself an audible sigh of relief. At the meeting, Kirk had agreed to Spock's proposal to send a second landing party to the coordinates of the Hoffmann 7 probe and the three missing men.

But just as Kirk had started to voice his opinion about Spock's suggestion to deploy a second landing party, McCoy interrupted his CO and volunteered for the mission. Kirk had bestowed his hot-tempered Georgian friend with an unreadable look but before the Captain could reply, Spock volunteered as well, arguing it was logical that he should be part of the landing party due to his technological and scientific knowledge.

Jim knew, if someone would find a way back for the two landing parties, it would be his First Officer. He could only sigh at Spock's unfailing logic and refrained to comment further.

With a quick wave of his hand, Kirk then delayed the discussion about personnel until they had discussed the actual plan. Pressing his lips together tightly, McCoy had crossed his arms at Kirk's reluctance to agree to his offer. Spock had raised an eyebrow toward his CO and mirrored McCoy's reaction perfectly by crossing his arms in the same, stubborn manner. United against their Captain, Spock and McCoy's expressions send a clear message to their mutual friend: 'You might not like it Jim, but we'll go anyway!' Kirk silently wondered how two as fundamentally different people as his friends still managed to gang up on him. Looking at the stubborn expressions on their faces - McCoy's open and angry, Spock's subtle and perplexed- Jim realised that his CSO and CMO were united by their extreme pigheadedness.

Kirk was convinced that Scotty and his men were alive and the probe was with them. That much was certain. Where they were and in what exact condition wasn't. Neither was how they could be retrieved or how they could travel back to the _Enterprise._ But Spock's proposed plan was straightforward. Like before, Lieutenant Kyle would use the automatic repeat function of the transporter. The second landing party would be beamed directly to where the probe had been when it transmitted the codes. The landing party would most likely be nearby_._Due to the damages to the transporter computer it was only possible to beam out but not to beam anyone back. Lieutenant Kyle and Spock had determined that they needed a new memory bank all together for the machine. But the nearest starbase where they could get one was 2 weeks away. Crucial time they didn't have.

Kirk's intuition also told him not to wait for a second message. If Scotty had deemed it necessary to warn them not to follow, he would have communicated this in his first message. But Kirk also knew that Scotty knew him too well. The CEO was well aware that Kirk would ignore such a warning anyway. The Captain was not one to abandon crewmembers, not as long as there was hope to rescue them. He wanted to get help and support to the three men _now_.

The second part of the plan then suggested that by uniting their forces, both landing parties would work together to either find a way to travel back to the _Enterprise_, a way to signal the ship to retrieve them or to reach any possible Federation outpost in the vicinity. _If __they__ were __in __this __Universe._ At this point, Kirk had taken over from Spock. The Captain ordered that if the landing party would find themselves in another Universe, it would be Mr. Spock's decision as Commanding Officer how to proceed under such circumstances.

McCoy had frowned at Kirk's clear words, but remained silent. He trusted Spock implicitly when it came to scientific or technological matters, but when it came to emotional aspects of the kind of mission that awaited them, he wasn't so sure.

Even though Kirk had initially delayed his decision regarding personnel, when the discussion turned to the subject eventually, he didn't have to think twice. He wanted to keep the landing party as small, but also as strong and efficient as possible. Mr. Spock as Chief Science Officer and Dr. McCoy as Chief Medical Officer _were_the obvious choices. He did not like it, but both men were essential personnel for such a mission. But Jim didn't dislike the idea to send Spock and McCoy into uncertainty just because they were his friends. There was also another reason. He would have to have a word with them before they left.

Jim was convinced that the third and final member could only be . When he shared his conviction with the others, the young ensign had looked up at his Captain, wide-eyed and with an open mouth. It was the first time that the Ensign had lifted his head during the meeting. Kirk had underpinned his order with a small, encouraging smile and Chekov had replied with a heartfelt 'Aye, Sair'. Kirk detected surprise but also sincere gratefulness in the young man's eyes and he intuitively knew that he had made the right decision.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After the emergency meeting, Spock and McCoy had headed towards the science lab while Lieutenant Kyle and Lieutenant Mendelson went back to the transporter room to continue with the repairs of the transporter computer. After a quick visit to the Bridge, Kirk also headed towards the science department to oversee the preparations of the landing party.

When Kirk entered the lab he was greeted with McCoy's passionate protest who deemed a third landing party member unnecessary. Kirk managed to silence his friend by giving a convincing reason for his decision.

"Bones, we need a navigator out there with not only excellent knowledge of the mechanics of all kinds of Space travel but also excellent knowledge of Space geography. And these are Chekov's specialist areas of expertise. And apart from that I know he's dying to come along, the boy wants to redeem himself!"

McCoy could only sigh and shrug his shoulders at this. Of course, Jim was right. But he didn't have to like it anyway.

While Spock and McCoy were packing two backpacks with as much scientific instruments, nutrition and water, medi kits and emergency blankets they could possibly carry, Chekov was busy in the library. He was transferring as much astro-geographical data onto his tricorder as possible and also packed his own backpack. Mr. Spock had just informed him that Lieutenant Kyle had managed to repair a part of the transporter computer bank. As a result, Kyle had been able to prove that Chekov had transferred the _correct_ data to the transporter.

Why didn't he feel any relief then?

All Pavel could feel right now was eternal gratefulness towards Captain Kirk that he had chosen him to be part of the landing party. And he vowed not disappoint him again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You are talking about redemption, Captain, but I deem it necessary to remind you that Ensign Chekov actually transmitted the _correct_ coordinates to the transporter computer."

Spock looked up from his tricorder, which he had just equipped with additional sensor programmes. He had pondered Kirk's explanation why he had chosen Ensign Chekov to accompany him and Dr. McCoy and concluded that it was...illogical.

Spock was referring to the fact that the theory that initially had seemed unlikely to be true, had been confirmed: Lieutenant Kyle had managed to restore the part of the transporter computer bank that confirmed that the Ensign _had __transferred_ the correct coordinates to the transporter, but the beam had been interfered by the wormhole. This resulted in the landing party's molecules being transported to an unknown destination instead, possibly in another Universe.

Kirk walked over to Spock, handing him a communicator and a phaser.

"But that knowledge doesn't help him much, Mr. Spock. Chekov still feels guilty. He gave the right coordinates- but at the wrong time. With another brief sensor scan, he could have detected the wormhole which you have detected later and prevented the transporting process."

"But the kid was too nervous, too scared, too much under pressure to think of that, Jim."

McCoy didn't give up his point about having assigned Chekov too early for heavy duty. Kirk nodded and put a hand on the Doctor's arm, an eager glint in his eyes.

"You're right, Bones. But nevertheless, it's a mistake for a Starfleet officer to be scared and nervous. If Chekov is ever to learn how to function under pressure, he needs to be given the chance to rectify this mistake now. Not later. Not on another mission. Now."

McCoy could tell from the Captain's passionate voice and fiery eyes, that Jim was speaking of experience. The CMO smiled gently at his friend and nodded.

The Doctor's gaze suddenly drifted off, as he seemed to remember something in his distant past, a past even Jim didn't know much about. This time it was the Captain who knew that McCoy was speaking from personal experience, as the CMO's voice was getting quieter as he spoke.

"I think I know what you mean, Jim. Guilt can be a man's undoing...Sometimes you wish to make a million other mistakes, as long as you don't ever make this _one_ mistake again."

McCoy seemed to talk more to himself, getting quieter with every word. But not too quiet for Vulcan ears though.

"That is an illogical observation, Doctor" Spock said dryly as he put additional tricoder accumulators into his backpack.

"Call it illogical, Spock. I call it human!" McCoy blurted out, back to his grumpy, irritated self.

Jim couldn't help but feel extremely annoyed that his friends insisted to argue in his presence until the last possible moment. It was one thing that they seemed to have decided to make one another's lives a misery, but testing their CO's nerves until breaking point was another.

Bones didn't even wait for the Vulcan's reply and quickly disappeared into the medical lab that was adjoined to the science lab. Several hypos had to be prepared. God knew in what condition Scotty and his men were.

Irritated at Spock's unnecessary comment at McCoy's personal declaration, Kirk shot an annoyed glance towards his First Officer.

Spock just raised an eyebrow and closed his bulky backpack.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two hours later, James Kirk headed down the corridor towards the turbo-lift that would take him to the transporter room on Deck A. The time had come. In a moment, he would beam the youngest crewmember on board and his two best friends to an unknown destination where unknown dangers of an unknown world awaited them. Kirk had decided to operate the transporter personally, as he didn't want to trouble Lieutenant Kyle's consciousness in case some interference should occur again.

Spock and McCoy would have to put an end to their bickering now. At least until they all were back safely aboard the _Enterprise._Then their Captain would happily bare their arguments again with an empathetic smile on his face. But they had to do their job first.

_It's __a__ good__ thing,__Chekov __is__ coming __along _Jim told himself. The youngster's eagerness and determination would hopefully direct the focus of the two senior officers on the mission at hand, especially Bones', who sometimes needed to be reminded of priorities.

As the Captain walked towards the turbo-lift, he slowed down involuntarily, not even noticing he was doing so. He was dreading to see his men walk up the transporter platform. Jim always felt restless if he couldn't be part of a landing party. But with the dangerous wormhole just outside his still immobile ship, he could not leave the _Enterprise_ and her crew alone. It was always difficult to send men onto a dangerous mission but to send them to a totally unknown destination was outright painful for him.

Jim shook his head as if to get rid of his dark thoughts. To distract himself from his worries, he pondered about what had just happened in the science lab. A soft smile lightened up his eyes. He recalled McCoy and Spock's stubborn faces when he had finally managed to ask them to make a promise after they had finished packing their backpacks. As he entered the turbo-lift and was transported down toward Deck A, Jim remembered every moment of that difficult conversation vividly.

_2 hours previously_

Spock and McCoy headed for the door, ready to go to the transporter room and to get the rescue mission underway as quickly as possible when Kirk called them back.

"One moment, Gentlemen. I'd like to have a word with you before you leave."

Spock and McCoy exchanged a quick look and turned around to face their CO.

"Yes Captain?" His expression all innocence, Spock clasped his hands behind his back and waited patiently for Kirk to continue.

McCoy frowned and his impatience was evident in his voice.

"A great time to have a chat, Jim. Can't it wait?"

Kirk searched for the right words to begin his speech but he needn't have worried. Leave it to his friends to get the conversation under way. Spock glanced sideways at the Doctor who was nervously bouncing on his toes.

"I'm sure the Captain has a logical reason to delay us for a few moments, Doctor."

"I really wish you'd have to pay me a credit every time you say that blasted word! I could retire tomorrow!" In his mind McCoy added privately: _And__ settle__ down__ as__ far__ away __from__ any__ two-legged __computer__ as__ possible!_

Kirk sighed and held his hands towards his friends as if he was pleading with them.

"_That's_ why it _can't_ wait, Bones!"

McCoy frowned and Spock looked puzzled.

"What in blazes is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think, Doctor?" Kirk shook his head in frustration.

Suddenly feeling very tired, the Captain sat down at one of the small tables in the middle of the room and gestured McCoy and Spock to follow suit. When they hesitated, he encouraged them with a gentle smile.

For a moment McCoy forgot his worries about the imminent mission. The last 24 hours had left a toll on all of them. And Jim Kirk was no exception. He looked exhausted. But at the same time he seemed to have something important on his mind that couldn't wait. And McCoy had a suspicion what it was that buggered his friend and Captain so much that he even deemed it necessary to delay them. This would not be fun.

Reluctantly, Bones sat down opposite Jim. Spock hesitated for a moment but sat down as well, next to the Doctor.

"You know what I worry about most regarding this rescue mission?" Kirk said with a heavy sigh he didn't make an effort to suppress.

McCoy frowned, while Spock lifted his right eyebrow – it was unusual for the Captain to admit he was worried, even less so to speak of what troubled him. Spock offered some assistance to Kirk who still seemed to struggle to find the right words.

"There are a lot of unknown factors that could complicate this mission and that can't be defined before we embark. Hence, they are in the realms of speculation, Captain. Therefore, I propose not to worry about them before they occur."

McCoy bit his lip at this; he instinctively knew that Spock was on the wrong track here, and deliberately so. He also knew that Spock was well aware of that. Spock disliked talking about their difficult relationship just as much as he did. That much they had in common.

Bones knew that Jim had the utmost confidence in himself and Spock; that they would give their best to return to the ship safely with the three missing men. He was sure that the Captain wasn't worried about their professional abilities.

From the corner of his eye Spock noticed McCoy's reaction. The Doctor was biting his lip and shifted in his chair nervously.

Bones also knew that Spock's attempt just now to put Kirk's mind at ease had been good intentioned. The Vulcan, in his unique and probably only way possible to him, had tried to convey optimism to Jim, but also to him. Bones feared that his own agitation wasn't escaping the sharp senses of the man next to him. Nor the man opposite.

The Doctor harrumphed several times, crossed his arms and stared grumpily into the void, unable to look at the Captain.

Jim crossed his hands calmly on the table in front of him. He bestowed a gentle smile on Spock.

"In principal, I agree with you, Mr. Spock. But unfortunately I can already think of one complication that will occur for certain."

Jim looked from one to the other, like a father looks at his unruly children, hoping that a mere look will make them realise their faults.

Spock knew that Jim had to be referring to some kind of emotional issue and he calmly folded his hands in his lap. As a Vulcan, it was a great challenge for him to deal with emotions sufficiently. Consequently, he had come to the logical conclusion a while ago to trust his sensitive Commanding Officer in such matters. No matter how complex or difficult the circumstances, Jim would always give him some useful advice on how to deal with emotions. The Vulcan's dark eyes remained fixed onto his friend's face, his eyebrows raised, calmly waiting for Jim to continue.

Bones had understood Jim's hint perfectly well too with the result that he got even more irritable. The Captain was treating them like misbehaving children! How on earth could Spock remain so calm and collected! This was about the Vulcan as much as it was about his own good self.

"If you're referring to me and Mr. Hobgoblin getting on, I can assure you ..."

"That the Good Doctor will give in to the logic of the situation and assist me in rationally finding a way to secure the landing party. And ourselves" Spock finished the sentence poignantly.

The Captain nodded and smiled even though his CMO's angry face turned a dark red. Jim quickly reached over the small table and touched his friends' arms.

"Spock, Bones, before you leave, I want you to promise me something."

He sounded gentle, worried, but determined at the same time. His concern for them was clearly expressed in his hazel eyes.

"I can't ask you to promise that you will all return safely to the _Enterprise_, as I can't ask you to promise me something you might won't be able to keep. But there is something I know that both of you can do, that will raise the chance of a successful mission significantly."

Spock took a long breath that to his dismay must have been audible to the Captain and the Doctor. He privately admitted his awe at Jim's ability to always voice his deepest, most personal concerns when it was necessary, when it was logical, to do so.

Bones' blue eyes held Jim's pleading gaze, not looking away this time. He knew that whatever Jim would ask of him now, he was willing to promise. It wasn't so much a matter of obeying a Captain's order, but of honouring a friend's trust. But it wouldn't be easy.

"You have to promise me, that you will work together to the best of your abilities and do what you seem to be incapable of most of the time but I _know_ you aren't.._.__"_

Jim stared at their stony faces, their stubbornness expressed by Spock's raised eyebrows and McCoy's pressed lips.

_'Get__on_ for crying out loud!' Jim blurted out. Why was such a simple request so difficult to voice?

The embarrassed silence that followed gave the CO a moment to reflect on his wish. He usually didn't mind his friends' constant bickering and lively, quick- witted banter. On the contrary, more often than not it made him smile. Sure, sometimes he had to put his foot down to their otherwise endless discussions, as neither his CSO nor his CMO would ever back down. But if they wouldn't argue at any given opportunity, something would be missing from life aboard the _Enterprise_. Somehow this simple fact of their lives seemed to reassure them, and it sure as hell reassured him.

Jim knew that Bones argued with Spock to prove his point that emotions were _necessary._McCoy felt that the Science Officer wasn't doing himself or anyone else any favours by suppressing his human half. And Spock never got tired to confront Bones with his illogic behaviour. The Vulcan believed it was his duty to remind the Doctor that he was suffering from a _regrettable _lack of rationality.

But Jim had always suspected there was an additional reason for McCoy and Spock's relentless arguments. A good reason. Why else would they jump at any opportunity to exchange their own brand of pleasantries? Why, despite their apparent strong dislike for one another, would they regularly seek each other's attention, even presence? The two of them probably weren't even aware of a subconscious motivation themselves.

Jim suspected that the other reason why Spock and McCoy argued all the time was because they both were too stubborn and too proud to admit that their _nemesis_ was actually a _friend_. To themselves, to one another and to everyone else as well. Including their mutual best friend. But by arguing all the time, by playing their 'game' that enabled them to even gang up on him, they were able to express their affection for one another without the need to call it that way.

Jim had the pressing feeling that this rescue mission would provide both of his friends with new insights about one another, and indeed, about their unique relationship. This intuition didn't unnerve Kirk, what did was his regret that he couldn't be there to guide them through such a process that surely would not be free of complications and challenges.

His friends' reaction to his request was nothing less but typical: Both of Spock's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline; he looked slightly baffled, innocent even. Spock was amazed that the Captain could have directed such a request as 'getting on' towards him, as he always valued co-operation as a logical requirement for any successful mission.

McCoy on the other hand just crossed his arms, and moved uncomfortably on his chair, his lips pressed to a thin line. He didn't say a word, punishing Jim with his refusal to give a reply to his request.

Those two must be the most stubborn beings on this side of the galaxy, Jim thought to himself. _Apart__ from __myself __of__ course_, he noted privately with ironic self-critique. Kirk had to smile at his own musings. It was true, Spock and Bones were extremely stubborn, but he loved them just as they were. Pig-headed or not, they were his best friends, his brothers, and he was about to send them on a very tricky and totally inconceivable mission. He smiled gently at both of them, a soft smile that was only reserved for those closest to him.

Feeling the warmth of Jim's smile reach his heart, Bones' anger at his Captain's talent to constantly ask the impossible of him dissolved and he risked a sideways glance at Spock. To Bones' surprise the Vulcan looked in his direction and their eyes met. McCoy got the impression that he could detect anticipation in Spock's eyes. Uncharacteristically, the First Officer seemed to wait for him to speak first.

Unfortunately, Bones felt hoarse in that precise moment for some reason. Must be the Saurian 'medicine' he had downed with regular intervals during the last 24 hours.

"Of course we can get along, Jim." Bones finally managed to mutter and he nodded in Spock's direction. "I just think it's usually easier for both of us not to."

The CMO shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Somehow he wasn't surprised when Spock nodded in agreement.

"An accurate observation, Doctor."

"Thanks, Spock." McCoy said with no trace of irony.

Jim had to smile again at the fact that the only thing Spock and Bones seemed to agree on was that they _disagreed_. But he knew that both of them had understood his point. He looked at them expectantly. They still owned him a promise. Spock cleared his throat and answered in an uncharacteristic quiet tone.

"I promise, Jim".

"Me too, Jim. I promise. Don't worry about us."

Bones returned his Captain's soft smile with the gentlest of smiles, a trademark of the Good Doctor whose blue eyes could freeze over hell but melt steal as well. Spock slowly nodded at Jim, his lips straight but his eyes shining with affection.

Now, Captain Kirk was ready to let them go.

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_Feedback and reviews are welcome! _

_In case I don't manage to post the next chapter before the holidays, I'd already like to wish you all a Merry Christmas! I'm off to bake some Christmas cookies now :)_


	9. The Cube

**The Cube**

"Chekov, get down!"

Spock shouted out with uncharacteristic urgency. The ensign quickly lied down on his stomach onto the cold, concrete surface while Spock pushed himself and McCoy towards the smooth steal wall of a building the size of a small space-dock. All three of them narrowly avoided being decapitated by the shuttlecraft that had appeared out of nowhere and speeded past their heads. It was white, rectangular and completely soundless and just hovered above the ground. Chekov could feel his hair move in the stream of air as the craft flew past him, only one and a half meters above the ground.

The trio had just materialised and were still gathering their senses. They had put down their heavy rucksacks to take in their surroundings of what appeared to be a city made entirely of steal and concrete. All the roads met at right angles and disappeared in straight lines until the horizon in each direction. A few shuttlecrafts were flying just above the roads as if they guided them. The spaces between the roads were filled with gigantic square and rectangular shaped grey buildings, some of them as tall as skyscrapers. The environment appeared urban but with one striking difference to other alien cities the landing party had encountered before: there was no sign of live whatsoever, no windows or doors in the buildings, no road-marks or traffic lights on the roads and most importantly no living and breathing soul as far as the eye could see. Not even the slightest hint of any flora, fauna or organic substance. Even the bright light coming from a white sky high above them felt artificial.

Just after they had materialised, Spock had suddenly tilted his head to his right. When McCoy noticed the fast approaching shuttlecraft in the corner of his eye as well, he had instinctively reached out towards Chekov, determined to pull him towards the wall. But the ensign had been standing several meters away from them and McCoy would have not reached him in time. Alert as always, Spock had quickly alarmed Chekov to get down and pulled a protesting McCoy back towards the wall of the metal building. The shuttle then rushed past at high speed and the three of them turned their heads, watching the alien craft disappear out of sight towards the horizon.

McCoy helped Chekov up who looked slightly embarrassed and was busy putting his uniform back in order.

"You're all right, Chekov?" and with a quick look towards Spock "I would have pulled you towards the wall but Mr. Spock had other plans."

Spock raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't react. He was back to studying the interesting readings on his tricoder.

McCoy's angry look towards Spock didn't escape Chekov. The young officer scratched his head as if he wanted to make sure his hair was still were it was supposed to be.

"Yes Doctor, I'm fine. I didn't hear zat ting coming."

"Well neither did I, but it seems Spock, with those Vulcan ears of his, did."

His eyes still fixed on the tricoder, Spock raised his eyebrow again.

"Fascinating" The CSO lifted his head to look at the horizon. The shuttle had completely disappeared from sight now.

McCoy quickly turned around to confront Spock with a stern glare. The Doctor could still feel a slight tremble in his bones. Those first moments in this strange world had certainly been something.

"Is that all you gotta say after we were nearly decapitated?"

"I was merely commenting on the fact that whoever, or whatever has steered the craft we have just encountered, didn't react to our presence."

"What did you expect; a loud, beeping horn to scare us out of the way?"

"Doctor, as I'm talking to you, I will spell out my logically attained assumptions. A 'beeping horn' would indicate a life form or a computer that was able to detect us. However, there was no sign that the craft or the force that commands it was perpetuated with our presence."

McCoy opened his mouth to protest but Spock continued speaking unfazed.

"This observation results in three possible options: One-those aircrafts are not designed to warn any life-forms on this planet because there aren't any; two- those aircrafts can detect life-forms but they are deemed unworthy of being warned; three- it was unable to detect our presence."

McCoy crossed his arms and stubbornly glared into the distance. Chekov had listened intently to his superior's assessment of the situation while undertaking readings on his own tricoder.

"Sair, I'm not certain of course, but maybe we should consider option One? I'm detecting no life forms whatsoever on zis planet. Neiter of humanoid, alien, plant or micro-biological nature."

Spock nodded, his eyes still intently reading his tricoder.

"Very well, Ensign. I confirm your readings" The Vulcan lifted his head to look directly at Chekov with dark, unemotional eyes "However, there is no need for expressing _uncertainty_ once a logical conclusion has been drawn. According to the data we have attained so far, option One _is_ the most likely possibility."

Chekov nodded attentively, just noticing in the corner of his eye how Dr. McCoy directed his eyes skyward, shaking his head. The young Russian sighed quietly and continued his measurements. Obviously the Doctor didn't share his own enthusiasm and gratefulness towards Mr. Spock's willingness to share his flawless insights.

Chekov's tricoder readings were spectacular as he detected no life at all on the planet, not even on the microscopic level, but only concrete, steal and other hard materials. Despite such fascinating readings, he found himself looking up from his tricoder to check what his superiors were doing. McCoy was now conducting his own readings, using both his tricoder and a bio-scanner. The Doctor stood with his back to Spock, who was focusing on a calculation on his tricoder. The CSO then turned around to face his colleagues and shared his fascination about the density of the colossal building next to them, quoting the exact number to five decimals. Chekov deemed the First Officer's finding incredible but McCoy commented the remark with a grumpy snort and another shake of the head.

"I'd rather have you comment on the 'fascinating' fact that Scotty and his men don't register on our tricoders, Spock!"

"Doctor, patience is also not one of your virtues. Ensign Chekov was right in so far that there is no life _on_ the planet's surface. I've only just started a long distance scan of its interior."

Chekov looked from the CSO to the CMO, how they stood with their backs to one another, not favouring the other with a look. Surprised, Chekov realised that just 15 minutes into their rescue operation, he was already worried about Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy's conduct towards one another and its possible negative influence on their mission. Chekov had been immensely grateful to Captain Kirk to send him along, convinced that his CO wanted to give him the opportunity to redeem his guilt, even though he had been proven not to be responsible for the landing party's disappearance. But the Captain wouldn't be the great Commanding Officer he was, if he had not be aware of the ensign's inner turmoil. Chekov _did_ feel guilty because he had initiated the beaming process at the time. More experience and stronger nerves would have enabled him to do another sensor scan in the few seconds he had had. He would have detected the wormhole and could have prevented the beaming. No one but himself blamed him for those shortcomings though. He was 21 and it had been his first day as a Starfleet officer. Most importantly, the beaming process had been interfered by an incredibly powerful wormhole. It really hadn't been Chekov's fault that things had gone wrong.

So far so good. But now Chekov also had the feeling that there had been another reason why Kirk teamed him up with the two senior officers.

Could it be possible? Here he was, the Enterprise's youngest crewmember, baby-sitting the 2nd and 4th highest-ranking officers on landing party duty?

McCoy's next comment did nothing to ease Chekov's mind and it only strengthened his suspicion about Captain Kirk's motivation to send him along.

The Doctor put his hands on the younger man's shoulders with a solemn look on his face.

" Don't let Spock spoil you with his logic, Chekov, there's so much more to life than..." McCoy couldn't finish his sentence as Spock pushed them into a one-meter wide, one-meter deep, rectangular cavity in the gigantic metallic building behind them. A second later, a dozen shuttlecrafts just like the previous one rushed past them. The cavity was just wide and deep enough to enable two men to face one another and Spock sheltered McCoy and Chekov with his body as he stood on the threshold. Momentarily, the Vulcan could feel the cold airflow the crafts were leaving behind at the back of his neck.

A few moments of astonished silence passed between them before Chekov was able to speak again.

"Zank you, Mr. Spock" the ensign said with a hoarse voice as he gasped for air.

"What the heck was that?" McCoy grunted, shifting from one foot to the other. He was stuck between a solid metal wall and Chekov with Spock just to his right.

Chekov looked up. The cavity wasn't very wide or deep, but it was as high as the building that was approximately measuring 150 meters in height. He looked at his feet and noticed that instead of standing on concrete ground like before, they were now standing on the same metallic surface like the walls of the building. Chekov looked at his tricoder for confirmation.

"A convey of 12 shuttle crafts has just passed us, Doctor." Spock replied to McCoy's question, never too busy to state the obvious "It was fortunate we were able to seek shelter in a cavity in this rather dense construct."

"Mr. Spock, look." Chekov pointed at their feet "We are standing on ze same metallic material ze whole building is made of."

Spock took a few more readings on his tricoder and raised his eyebrows.

'_Whole_ is an appropriate term, Ensign, for this construct is solid metal, very similar to your Terran metal. It is not hollow inside, but solid. Therefore, it's not a building. And all its dimensions are exactly square.150x150x150 meters."

Hit by a feeling of claustrophobia, McCoy had just wanted to suggest to return to the street, when Spock's observation made him blurt out in astonishment: "This massive thing's a _cube_, Spock?"

"I believe I have just said..." the Vulcan didn't get to finish his sentence.

An observer on the opposite side of the street would have watched on in wonder as the space-dock sized cube suddenly descended into the ground at breath-taking speed. After only a few seconds it had disappeared completely bellow the surface. Only a human scream that had come from the cube remained above ground as it echoed between the remaining gigantic metal constructs that flanked the streets.

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_A shorter chapter for a change, but the next one will follow soon. As always -reviews and comments would be wonderful. Thanks for bearing with me and the story. It's great fun writing it :)_

_Merry Christmas!_


	10. Three's a Crowd

**Three's a Crowd**

The descent was so rapid that Chekov thought he would faint. When it had started a short scream had escaped his lips. But as they disappeared into the dark unknown, he didn't have the energy to strain his lungs just a second longer despite the strong urge to give in to his panic. He felt like paralysed.

Chekov had experienced a similar feeling once before when he had been stuck on a malfunctioning turbo-lift on the Federation space-dock in Earth's orbit. Shaking, he leaned towards the metallic wall of the cavity and gave in to the dizziness that clouded his mind.

When the descent had started, McCoy had had the presence of mind to get hold of Spock. The moment the CMO had felt movement under his feet he grabbed the thin shoulders of the Vulcan and pulled him inside the cavity.

The cube descended bellow the planet's surface at a great speed. McCoy was reminded of the incredible fast turbo-lifts aboard the _Enterprise. _This movement felt smooth buteven faster. A distant but fairly loud mechanical sound accompanied it. The darkness just behind Spock's back outside the cavity added to McCoy's sense of disorientation. He lifted his head to see the square of light above become smaller and smaller until it was completely gone and total darkness engulfed them. It was then that the descent suddenly stopped as abruptly as it had begun and their bones were rattled by the sudden halt. Chekov slumped towards Bones and he knew instantly that the young Russian had fainted.

"Chekov!" McCoy padded his cheeks with some force and after a few moments the Ensign came to.

"I'm OK, Doctor. I tink" Chekov answered with a shaky voice. McCoy put his arm around the young man's shoulders to steady him.

"I gather you haven't sustained any injuries either, Doctor?"

"I'm fine, Spock. And you?"

The soft beep of a tricoder being switched on was the only sound detectable apart from their breathing.

The dim light of Spock's tricoder lit up his face just enough to give the Vulcan a ghostly appearance in the total darkness. He was studying the readings.

"Thank you, Doctor, I'm also in good health. It appears we have descended into an open space bellow the surface of this planetoid. I don't want to distract you with my estimates of the dimensions of this precinct but it roughly equals the size of your Terran moon."

Spock's tone was a calm as usual; only the speed of his words hinted at his amazement.

If there had been more light, Spock would have seen two wide-open mouths.

When McCoy finally found his voice again, he didn't make an effort to hide the concern in his tone.

"Good God, what the hell is this, Spock? And more importantly, how we're gonna get back up? Our rucksack's are up there! Without them we won't last long."

"Doctor, I don't need to tell you how long humans can survive without nutrition or water."

Spock could have elaborated about Vulcan superiority when it came to survival, but he refrained from referring to it at this point.

"But I agree that the loss of our instruments and supplies is unfortunate. May I enquire as to what equipment each of you is carrying?"

"Only my tricoder and phaser, Mr. Spock. Both are functional" Chekov still sounded shaken, but at least his voice was back to its normal volume again.

"Emergency medi-kit, tricoder, bio-scanner and phaser. All intact as far as I can see" McCoy was controlling his equipment with the help of Chekov's tricoder light.

"I carry a tricoder, phaser and the long-distance communicator. Apart from the latter, my equipment is fully functional" Spock completed their assessment.

Only now, after the initial excitement, McCoy noticed how cold it was down here. The complete darkness that surrounded them wasn't only scary it was also icy. He felt Chekov starting to tremble.

McCoy crossed his arms tightly around his torso. He already regretted not having their rucksacks at hand. He knew it had been a good idea to pack those emergency blankets. But of what use were they now? His bio-scanner indicated a temperature of 5 degrees bellow Celsius. Due to the confined space they hadn't noticed straight away how cold their new environment was. He also noted that while his and Chekov's body temperatures were still normal, Spock's metabolism was already working at a higher rate than usual. The First Officer's body was adapting quicker to its new environment as it was more sensitive, but also because the cold was more harmful to Vulcans than it was to humans. _That's were the superiority ends_ McCoy thought grimly. He sincerely hoped they wouldn't have to spend too much time in this dark, freezing hell.

"My readings indicate approximately 1500 cubes like ours in this space beneath the surface. Fascinating" The Vulcan didn't seem faced by the harsh circumstances they were finding themselves confronted with.

"Un-be-li-va-ble" Chekov pronounced each syllable; if it was due to the cold, the young man's amazement or both, McCoy wasn't too sure.

Baffled by Spock's findings, the CMO raised an eyebrow and nodded, but realised Spock couldn't see him.

"Spock, that's great, but...

McCoy pondered how he should phrase what he needed to say without immediately provoking the Vulcan's stubborn defence mechanisms.

"I hate to point out what's obvious. It's very cold in here" McCoy ended his sentence.

"It's _freeeezing,_ Doctor. I feel like I'm in Siberia" Chekov blurted out as he continued with breathing warm air onto his clutched hands.

The darkness prevented McCoy to give Spock a stern look so instead he turned his head towards the Vulcan and raised his voice.

"Even our Russian here is feeling it. At that temperature it won't be long until your body will shut down into survival mode."

"3.34 hours to be exact at the present temperature. However, my body will not 'shut down', Doctor. Instead, I would start a deep mediation that is stabilising my temperature and body functions. I'm not going to burden you with the Vulcan terminology but in the colloquial sense you could call this kind of meditation a 'hibernation trance' " Spock explained with a calm and even voice.

"I don't care how you describe that Vulcan hocus-pocus of yours, you will fall into a _coma_, Spock!"

Despite the cold, Bones felt the blood boil in his temples. The Vulcan's unwillingness to accept his own vulnerability was one of his most annoying traits. Unfortunately Spock shared this attitude with Jim Kirk who also believed to be indestructible. It was no wonder that Bones was irritated most of the time, those two were constantly giving him reasons to worry about their health. He was their CMO and friend, that was his job. But he still felt that despite Jim and Spock's claims of the exact opposite, they didn't seem to be concerned about _his_ well-being at all, the well-being of his nerves to be exact.

A small sigh escaped Spock's lips "In human medical terms your description would be accurate Doctor, but compared with Vulcan physiology-"

"Mr. Spock, Doctor!" Chekov cried out as suddenly the cube started to move again. It didn't move as fast as before but instead it was moving horizontally towards the right. The movement was accompanied by a fairly loud, mechanical sound from far below, like the humming of a gigantic machine. It was similar to the sound that had accompanied their descent. Spock noted privately that if the sound corresponded to the mechanism that operated the cube's movement, it wasn't loud at all if put into context of the colossal size and mass of the construct.

"Fascinating" Spock's eyes were fixed on his tricoder display.

"What is it, Spock?"

"We're turning towards the cube to our right that is also turning towards the cube on its right with a few dozen cubes in this row undergoing a simultaneous movement. They are all moving towards a larger construct opposite, apparently to connect with it."

In the dim light of their tricoder displays, Spock could see the puzzled looks on McCoy and Chekov's faces.

"This whole, gigantic mechanism bares similarity to a clockwork that was used in your ancient Terran clocks, Gentlemen" Spock offered to help his companions to understand the process.

Chekov nodded but the word clockwork somehow made him feel uncomfortable.

Suddenly, McCoy felt extremely agitated. Since they had arrived on this strange world he hadn't felt that scared. Bones had listened intently to Spock's analyses and as he pictured the Vulcan's descriptions in his mind he had come to an unsettling conclusion.

"A clockwork needs a cogwheel, Spock" the CMO animatedly padded the wall behind him "Don't tell me, this construct opposite we're moving towards to is the wheel and we're going to encounter the cog?"

"I'm afraid this seems to be an appropriate allegory. We are moving towards a gigantic round construct. This cavity appears to be the spatial link to lock with this object." Spock admitted with a barley suppressed sigh.

"We have to get out of here!" Chekov cried out. He was annoyed as soon as he had said it. How could he allow himself to be so scared? He had to maintain composure. He was a Starfleet Officer on a rescue mission. Mr. Scott and his men relied on him to remain calm. Chekov took a deep breath and tried his best to breath evenly. McCoy's reassuring grip of his shoulder was helping as well.

"Spock, how long?" McCoy was surprised how calm and collected he managed to sound. There had to be a way out of this mess. Panic wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Approximately 7 minutes. I'm afraid I can't give an exact time as I haven't calculated the exact mass of the cubes and the round construct yet."

Spock's tricoder was flickering and only now did McCoy notice that his own instruments had switched themselves off into standby mode.

"I have detected a colossal energy source approximately 1000 meters bellow us which seems to interfere with our instrument readings and functionality." The Vulcan switched his tricoder off and on. A small, relieved sigh escaped him as the steady, dim light of the instrument once again lighted his face.

"Ok, any suggestion how we get out of here before becoming mash?"

"Yes, Doctor" Spock replied and Chekov released and audible sigh of relief "My environmental scan indicates that in approximately 5 minutes we will pass a large, solid plateau. The passing will last about 60 seconds. The plateau will be approximately 2 meters away from the threshold of this cavity."

"You mean, we should _jump_ onto the plateau?" McCoy hated the idea, but not as much as being pressed to a pulp inside a colossal clockwork.

"Affirmative. I also suggest, as the space in here is too confined to take a sufficient run up for the jump, that I will assist both of you by pushing you towards the plateau."

Confronted with deafening silence Spock felt the need to add "Vulcan's are significantly stronger than Humans."

"And what about you, Spock? Who will give you a push?" McCoy tried hard to control his anger at Spock's implied self-sacrifice but he knew he was failing at it.

"As I just said Doctor, I'm much stronger than you and the Ensign are. Therefore, I will be able to jump much further without a run up. It is therefore logical, that I go last."

McCoy grunted. If they had the time, he would give Spock his piece of mind regarding how sick he was of his Vulcan arrogance. But they hadn't.

"I suggest you will go first, Doctor, then Mr. Chekov. You might be able to catch his hands and pull him onto the plateau in case the Ensign doesn't succeed to cover the distance completely."

Chekov thought that Mr. Spock had a great talent for describing uncomfortable circumstances rather practically.

"What is bellow ze plateau, Mr. Spock? I mean, how far would we fall?" Chekov asked quietly.

A short pause from Spock indicated his answer wouldn't be pleasant.

"It's approximately 255.2 meters to the surface bellow us, Ensign."

"Oh" was all Chekov could say to that. He tried to remember how he had done at school in ancient Olympic athletic disciplines. They had practised long-jump but he couldn't remember if he had been any good at it. What did it matter anyway? He had to be good at it _now_!

"You're giving us a lot of approximates, Spock. Should we worry about that?" McCoy asked. The question was nagging at his mind ever since Spock had informed them that their instruments were being interfered by an unknown energy source. It wasn't promising that his question was followed by another relatively long pause before Spock replied.

"I'm afraid it would take more than the time we have left to calculate the exact distances with the current interference our instruments suffer and due to the time it takes the tricoder to precisely measure all surrounding areas and objects. Approximates will have to suffice. It also means, that you _have _to jump as far as you can, Doctor."

"Figures" McCoy mumbled. He suddenly felt a weird feeling in his stomach. The thought of jumping towards a plateau he couldn't see, across an abyss he couldn't see, wasn't exactly pleasant. But it was their only chance.

"Doctor, I suggest you hand me your equipment. You as well, Ensign. I'm better prepared to jump with baggage" Spock said calmly and held out his hands towards them.

McCoy couldn't even smile at the fact that he had just caught Spock making an illogical suggestion.

"Spock... I don't like sayin' this, but in case...in case you shouldn't make it, neither will our instruments then."

If there would have been light, Bones would have seen Spock's raised eyebrow.

"Of course." Spock replied quietly and withdrew his hands.

What followed were a few, quiet moments where the frightening darkness and the horrible cold were tormenting their alert senses. Then Spock raised his voice, sounding calm and confident.

"60 seconds until we start passing the plateau. I suggest you get ready to jump, Doctor."

_Please review! :)_


	11. The Abyss

**The Abyss**

Bones was focusing all his senses on the darkness ahead. But it was incredible difficult to focus on something you couldn't see. He decided that it would make more sense to concentrate on his body, his legs and arms, to prepare himself for the jump. He had about two large strides to make, a rather short run up but it would have to do. Then, at the threshold of the cavity, Spock and Chekov would give him a strong push to whatever he was heading to. The space in the cavity was extremely limited and confined, however there was just enough room to allow for such an 'operation' as Spock had put it. Bones wished he would have had more opportunity to prepare for the jump, but the space, or rather the lack of it, just didn't allow it. He would literally have to jump the gun.

Bones smiled as Spock started to count backwards from ten like they were engaging in some sporting competition. _Nine, eight... _he would have to catch the edge of the threshold with his right foot, that would give him the possibility to push himself into the air;_ five, four ... _and stretch his arms forward in case he wouldn't jump far enough and would have to catch the edge of the plateau...

_Three, two, one._

"Jump!"

Chekov and Spock shouted out simultaneously and McCoy took two large strides. He hit the edge of the cavity with his right foot just as Spock had advised him. He jumped forward, with all his strength, feeling Chekov to his left and Spock to his right as they pushed his torso forward. His strength combined with theirs, catapulted McCoy into the freezing air. Moving his arms like a long-jumper, the Doctor was surprised that he had even time to notice that it was much colder outside the cube. And then he felt a solid surface beneath his right foot. McCoy pushed himself forward, dropping on all fours onto the plateau.

Everything had happened so quickly that McCoy didn't even have time to think about the abyss he had just crossed. His hurting bones and freezing limps didn't leave a doubt that he was still alive.

"Made it!" he shouted out, as much to himself than to Chekov and Spock on the other side. The Doctor held up his tricoder that was shining dimly in the darkness to give Chekov some orientation. "Come on Chekov, what you're waiting for?"

The ensign turned towards Spock who nodded at him, his stony face being lit slightly by his tricoder. If his superior officer was indeed worried, Chekov wouldn't get the impression from his face. Like usual, the Vulcan's features were rigid and completely emotionless.

"You will do the jump just like Doctor McCoy has demonstrated, Ensign!" Spock sounded uncharacteristically sharp. It was an order. An order Chekov was more than eager to fulfil.

McCoy positioned himself impatiently at the edge of the platform, his tricoder around his neck so that Chekov could see him, his arms stretched towards him.

Chekov decided that he would be scared later. He took two large strides, and pushed himself off the edge, assisted by a powerful push from Spock. While flying through the air Chekov saw that McCoy and the platform were moving away too rapidly. The plateau was moving past the cube too quickly. He wouldn't make it.

BANG. Chekov crashed against the side of the platform with full force. Thankfully, McCoy was already lying on the floor, leaning over the edge, as he had seen that Chekov would probably not make it. The CMO had hoped he would catch Chekov's arms. Then, with the ensign's assistance, he could easily pull him up onto the platform. But unfortunately fate had different plans.

The Doctor _had_ managed to catch the Russian's left hand, but the boy wasn't reacting. He dangled above the abyss lifelessly, only prevented from falling to his death by McCoy's strong grip on his arm.

Bones knew instantaneously that Chekov had crashed his head against the side of the platform and was now unconscious.

As there was nothing to hold on to or to get a grip on, McCoy had to use all his strength- not only to hold on to Chekov but also to somehow keep himself on the smooth surface of the plateau. Due to Chekov's dead weight, McCoy was slowly but steadily being dragged over the edge.

"_Spock!"_

Bones shouted as loud as he could. He wouldn't make it without Spock's help. And neither would Chekov. Just a second later, he felt a rush of air next to him as Spock dropped onto the plateau with an elegant shoulder roll. The CSO had watched Chekov's unlucky collision and knew instantly that McCoy would have only seconds to hold on to the ensign.

Spock got hold of Chekov's other arm and with combined strength they pulled him up. They pulled him a few meters away from the edge. McCoy immediately started assessing Chekov's injury, his scanner running over the young man's head and body. Spock was checking the readings on his tricoder. It was still pitch black, but as all of their instruments were in use, the dim light they were exposing enabled them to see one another's faces.

McCoy's scanner was flickering due to another interference and he cursed the instrument with a flow of obscenities that wouldn't have been out of place in a whorehouse. The scanner seemed to have taken note and was suddenly stabilising itself again. McCoy continued his assessment.

Spock watched on with concern as the Doctor examined Chekov. McCoy impatiently was shaking his head as he had to wait for a moment until his scanner and tricoder would present him with the result of their readings.

"Where the hell are we, Spock?" McCoy took the moment of inaction to enquire about the platform.

Despite the Adrenalin rush, Bones felt incredibly tired, annoyed – and angry. Why did landing party duty always have to be such a pain in the ...?

"The plateau is approximately 160 square meters in dimension. About ten meters to our left is a larger construct that is hollow inside. The construct has a similar size like one of the cubes, but it's static and contains separate spaces within it. Possibly a building of sorts" Spock informed McCoy with a composed voice.

McCoy nodded, never failing to be amazed how quick Spock was coming to his conclusions. His own readings were coming through now and he frowned at his tricoder. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

"Spock, Chekov's got a severe concussion. I need to administer the brain-stabiliser to reduce the haemorrhage. Can you give me light?"

Spock knelt down at Chekov's right side and used his own and the ensign's tricoder to assist the Doctor. McCoy's eyes were fixed on Chekov's head and he conducted the task with total concentration. Spock knew it was a delicate task that demanded exact precision from the CMO.

"I need to adjust the stabiliser exactly above the haemorrhage, otherwise I could cause more damage than good" McCoy explained as Spock held the lights even closer.

McCoy put the scanner on Chekov's forehead, just above the left eye, while reading the measurement on his medi-tricoder at the same time.

"Done!" McCoy looked up at Spock, unshielded concern evident in the Vulcan's dark eyes. "He should be waking up in about 12 hours or so. But he will be extremely dizzy for a while and not able to walk for at least another 12 hours."

Spock nodded. It hadn't escaped McCoy that Spock had put his hand around Chekov's wrist the moment the lights of his tricoders hadn't been needed anymore. Spock's index and middle finger rested on the boy's wrist and Bones wondered if that was on of Spock's Vulcan voodoo healing techniques. But he refrained from inquiring about it. Whatever it was, it could only help the kid.

"Spock..." McCoy wasn't quite sure how he could put this to the Vulcan "What worries me most is the temperature."

Bones was making an effort not to chatter with his teeth too loudly. It was incredible cold. 10 degrees minus now. Instinctively, he sat as close to Chekov as possible to give him some protection from the freezing cold around them.

"Chekov's head will be just fine, but as his body functions are working on reserve so to speak as long as he's wearing the scanner, he could, and very likely will, develop pneumonia." McCoy elaborated on his previous statement.

"Can he be moved?" Spock asked calmly, but McCoy knew he had heard genuine concern in the Vulcan's voice.

"Yes."

"I suggest you hold him close then, Doctor. Your own body temperature will function as a source of warmth."

Spock wouldn't have to tell McCoy that, he had already thought as much and was pulling Chekov into his arms. The ensign was still warm, but his body temperature was dropping to 36 degrees as McCoy noted to his dismay. He looked towards the stoic Vulcan with open concern: "You better sit next to us too, Spock. Your temperature is already down to 40 degrees."

While he kept an eye on Chekov's readings on his medi-tricoder, Bones was also keeping a close one on Spock's body functions. If Spock wouldn't be careful, unconscious officers would soon surround McCoy.

Spock just raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He sat down next to McCoy and Chekov and drew his long legs towards his chin, wrapping his arms tightly around them.

He just needed a moment to think. There must be a logical way of action. He had faced similar perilous and complex situations before. Why was this situation different and why was it so difficult to think straight all of a sudden? As Spock focused his energy to control his body functions, Spock knew the answer, but he wasn't allowing himself to admit it.

A distant but _piercing_ scream, coming from the depth of the abyss, made Spock and McCoy lift their heads simultaneously. Unmistakably, it had been a human scream and it had send chills down both their backs, chills that weren't due to the cold.

There was no doubt about it. They both knew this voice. A voice that was unique to the 430 crew aboard the _Enterprise._ A Scottish voice.

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_A short chapter for a change as the next 'scene' is completely different and requires a separate chapter. As usual- feedback and comments are very welcome! Thanks._


	12. Alone

**ALONE**

Jim Kirk was pacing the length of his quarters for what seemed the hundredth time. In the beginning, he had decided to focus on counting his steps just to regain some calmness in his mind and to put his thoughts back in order. He had stopped counting at 31 and admitted to himself that patience wasn't one of his virtues.

Even though they were maintaining the exact position in space for exactly 35 hours now, the _Enterprise_ had collided with the invisible force field again that was surrounding the wormhole. As the ship wasn't moving, Kirk had come to the conclusion that the field must be fluctuating slightly and changing its size. His suspicions had been confirmed shortly after by measurements from the _Enterprise's_ sensors. But the ship _had_ to remain where it was in the local space, as the Hoffmann 7 probe was only able to respond back to the exact coordinates it had been sent from. Thankfully, the weak collisions with the force field had only added little additional injury on top of the damage they had attained when they had flown against the invisible buffer for the first time.

What also worried him was the fact that Spock hadn't been in touch yet via the long distant communicator. Judging from the time it had taken the probe to respond, his signal should have come through by now. But it hadn't. That only left a few possible options. Either the communicator was malfunctioning or had been damaged, the landing party had materialised in a destination outside this Universe, or there was no one left to use it.

Kirk banged his hand against the desk and reprimanded himself for dwelling on such negative thoughts. Yes, it were all logical possibilities, but it didn't help anyone if he allowed himself to act and react upon suspicions instead of _facts._

The other serious problem they were facing was that the signals from the Hoffmann 7 probe had stopped.

Uhura had turned towards Jim with possibly the gravest look he had ever seen on her face. Her gentle voice couldn't hide her worry, her grief, when she informed him that the communications from the probe had stopped completely.

In that moment Jim had felt as if life itself was being sucked out of his body, out of his mind, out of his soul. But somewhere deep inside of him, buried in his heart, he still felt the power of command control within himself. Jim _knew_ that this power would leave him last, if indeed, it would ever leave him at all.

Jim had ordered Sulu to maintain their position until further notice. He wasn't giving up just yet. They had to give the probe time to hopefully re-establish contact with the ship in the near future. If it had been damaged, Jim was convinced that his brilliant CEO would be able to repair it. Indeed, if anyone could do so apart from Spock, it would be their resident Scotsman.

So, for the moment, the ship was maintaining its position and the energy field remained stagnant. Jim had realised that right now, there was nothing else to do for him on the Bridge. Uhura had walked towards his chair and pleaded with a quite voice that he should get some rest. She would inform him immediately should there be any contact from the probe or further developments. Her concern touched him, but Jim could only reward her kindness with a weak smile as he got up and left the Bridge.

Three hours had passed since then. And they still hadn't received only a peep from the probe.

Restlessly, Jim was pacing up and down his quarters. Instead of counting his strides, a single number was dominating his mind. _Six._

Six men were out there. Six men who had trusted him with their lives. Who believed in him implicitly, that he would find a way to help them. To rescue them. But the bitter truth was that right now, he was totally helpless and couldn't do _anything_ for them at all.

Jim had been in many similar situations before where the fate of crewmembers on landing party duty had been unknown to him. What made this mission even worse was the fact that three of the missing men he considered friends. And among those three were the two closest friends he had ever known.

And then there was Chekov. The ship's youngest crewmember. Jim had been so convinced that it was the right decision to send the ensign along on the second landing party. But now, in the quiet of his quarters, Jim realised that his mind was conflicted and that he had suppressed a struggle of interests within himself when he had made the decision. The truth was that a young and inexperienced ensign like Pavel Chekov wasn't meant to be sent into the great unknown.

Jim stopped by his bookshelf and leaned towards the antique piece of furniture. As another wave of exhaustion was washing over him, he thought back to the moment when he realised he had made a mistake.

Shortly after the second landing party had left, he had found himself sitting in the captain's chair, staring at the Navigator's console. Lieutenant Riley, who was covering for the Russian, manned Chekov's station. As Jim stared at the back of Riley's blonde head, he started feeling the guilt. Guilt about the decision he had just made. But also guilt**1** regarding a distant past, a time he never remembered.

It had been _his_ idea to send Chekov on this rescue mission. Sure enough, the ensign's special areas of expertise qualified him to come along. But the real reason Jim decided to send Chekov along was that he actually believed he was doing the young ensign a _favour. _So that Chekov wouldn't be tormented by guilt later due to his unfortunate involvement regarding the disappearance of Scotty and his men. But now it looked like there wouldn't be a _later_ for Ensign Chekov. And it was his fault.

Alone in his quarters, Jim had to grab the shelf to steady his exhausted body.

Had he unconsciously projected his own feeling of guilt, albeit of a different nature and attained due to a very different experience, but sill the same feeling, onto the ensign?

Had he projected his own desire to redeem himself onto the navigator?

Had he intended to show Chekov a way to deal with his guilt, to protect himself from the pain that Jim was certain would torment the young man until the end of his days?

Had Jim offered the ensign a way to escape the dark abyss that was a guilt-ridden soul, an escape route he was still seeking for himself?

Overwhelmed by the realisations that were tormenting his tired mind, Jim had to sit down on his bed. Only then, as he finally allowed his body some rest, did the Captain realise he was breathing heavily and that his face was soaked with sweat.

What troubled Jim most about his realisation was that it _had _to be true due to a simple fact. Even though they were both experiencing guilt due to totally different experiences and circumstances, their guilt shared one, defining characteristic.

It was_ unjustified. _They were both innocent.

Chekov and himself were suffering from a perceived guilt that was actually not justified, but had inflicted itself on their souls after a traumatic experience. And both experiences had to do with the loss of life. In his case, a very significant loss of life, in Chekov's, until now at least, a perceived one.

_Bones would have been proud on my psychological self-assessment_, Jim thought as he closed his eyes.

With a loud sigh, Jim allowed himself to lie back onto his bed for just a minute. He didn't even bother to take his boots off; he would be back on the Bridge with the others in just a moment. Jim knew if there was _one _thing he could do now, it was to give strength and hope to his crew. While the he was allowing himself the luxury to lie down for a minute, 423 men and women aboard the _Enterprise _were worried about their 6 missing shipmates. Furthermore, Jim was well aware that just like himself, officers amongst the Bridge crew were also deeply worried about_ friends_. Uhura was close to Scotty, so was Sulu. The social helmsman had also managed to befriend Chekov in a short time. Riley was good mates with Scotty's young assistants Brown and Monet. And they all cherished their logical First Officer and grumpy Chief Medical Officer.

What was this ship without those two, the Captain wondered in the painful silence of his quarters. What if they didn't come back? Until this very moment, he had never felt so incredibly lonely aboard this ship. He shuddered.

Jim put his arms around himself, suddenly feeling very cold. His quarters were comfortably warm at 24 degrees Celsius, yet he was shaking like a leaf. He closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted to Spock and Bones. God, how he hoped they were all right.

Whatever trouble they were in, Jim Kirk prayed that at least they were together.

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**1**_ I hadn't planned on a whole chapter focused on Kirk but the story somehow developed that way. The personal guilt Kirk is thinking about is regarding his traumatic experiences as a teenager when he survived Kodos the Executioner and his genocide. In the past, I have come across a few fan fiction stories that explore this crucial point in Kirk's life, sometimes referring to or hinting at the fact that he is suffering from survivor's guilt. When writing 'Alone' I realised that this back-story has influenced Kirk's feelings and behaviour in this story, especially towards Chekov._

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_As always-please feel free to comment or review. _

_And a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! Your comments_

_and feedback are much appreciated!_


	13. The Order Of Command

**The Order Of Command**

He was on the _Peak of Fools._ But this time it wasn't summer, it was winter, and the snow was 4 meters thick. And he was caught within it. Buried beneath it. He didn't mind so much that he had difficulty breathing, but the cold burned into his skin and seemed to separate the limps from his body like a sharp knife that had just been held into a fire until it glowed. He was trapped and he would freeze to death. Father wasn't with him. No blankets, no hot tea with honey, no goggles that protected him from the blinding white around him. In a way he felt relieved that father wasn't with him. He wouldn't have to suffer the way he did. But how he wished not to be so very lonely. He felt an incredible wave of self-pity wash over him as he realised he would have to face death on his own.

But would he really?

Pavel could feel a warm hand that was taking his own hand and held it tight. Suddenly, the snow was gone. Only darkness surrounded him now. It was a bitter-cold darkness though and he had no intention to come back to the surface of his consciousness as he knew somehow that the cold that awaited him there was even more severe. But the warm hand indicated to him that at least he wasn't on his own like he had been in his nightmare. Or had it been a vision? Maybe he was really trapped by ice and snow. Maybe not on the Peak of Fools, but maybe somewhere else. His head hurt terribly and he just couldn't remember where he was and what had happened. And he didn't want to wake up just yet to find out.

Chekov was tossing in McCoy's arms. All the Doctor could do was to watch the young man suffer from physical, and very likely, mental discomfort. The brain-stabiliser was firmly in place on the Russian's forehead and would remain there for at least another hour until his brain readings had been fully stabilised. McCoy mentally kept his fingers crossed that his medical instruments would continue to function without interference. Spock's tricoder had flickered a few times earlier on due to the massive power source the Vulcan had detected somewhere far bellow them, even further down bellow the bottom of the abyss they had crossed. But since they had taken refuge within the large metal construct on the platform, the instruments seemed to work more reliably again. Unfortunately this didn't apply to the phasers who had lost all their power due to that unknown energy source. If only they had worked, McCoy noted grimly, they would have at least been able to heat up the metal walls surrounding them to turn them into makeshift radiators.

They were within a building of sorts and according to Spock it consisted of dozens of rectangular rooms on 4 floors. The whole construct had about the size of a medium sized Starfleet office building on Earth. The rooms were all empty as far as they had detected from their tricoder readings. They had settled in the middle room on the ground floor, as this was the 'warmest' with only 3 degrees bellow zero.

The Doctor held his patient's hand, hoping that Chekov would notice his presence. Bones squeezed the ensign's hand slightly and a peaceful smile appeared on Chekov's face. The medi-tricoder readings stabilised slightly and the CMO breathed a sigh of relief. Chekov was developing pneumonia, there was not much he could do about it under those circumstances, but at least his brain functions were stabilising and the concussion was under control.

Bones leaned back towards the metal wall and focused on Spock now who was sitting next to Chekov's on the other side.

The Vulcan had pulled his legs close to his body, his arms wrapped around them tightly. In the faint light that the brain-stabiliser on Chekov's forehead emitted, Bones thought he saw Spock rocking gently. Of course, that was a logical thing to do. Movement resulted in the body producing energy, and energy gave warmth. Bones would be pacing up and down the room himself, if he didn't have to stay close to Chekov to provide him with at least a little body warmth. Good God, what would he give for a double, no a triple, shot of Terran Brandy! Or even better, Saurian Brandy! At least, that would warm him comfortably from the inside. And it would do Chekov some good as well. Spock of course would reject an alcoholic beverage with healing powers even under such severe circumstances. Bones wondered if the Vulcan had already began his meditation that would prepare his body for the hibernation trance he would have to adapt if they didn't get out of here somehow. But Bones didn't see their escape from that freezing hell happen any time soon, with Chekov immobile for at least 10 more hours, Spock weakened and their instruments not functioning properly. Nevertheless, Bones would attempt to do precisely that- to find a way out of this hostile environment.

For the moment though, the Doctor scrutinised Spock closely, as much as that was possible in the dim light. The Science Officer looked calm and composed, even relaxed, but Bones had the uncomfortable impression that Spock's lips had turned a dark green, a clear indication that he wasn't far from that 'Vulcan hibernation something.' McCoy wasn't very good at remembering Vulcan terminology and he had forgotten the actual term Dr. M'Benga had once explained to him. But he knew that calm and relaxed didn't necessarily mean a good thing with Spock. He remembered how the Vulcan had once adapted a healing trance after he had been badly injured on Deneva by the parasite that had killed Jim's brother Sam and his wife Aurelian. Spock had lied in Sickbay, tucked in under a blanket on the biobed, and even though he was tormented by pain there were moments during his self-inflicted healing trance when he looked totally calm. But Bones had been aware that the Vulcan was enduring unimaginable pain. Thankfully they were able to cure him soon after.

Bones didn't like to think back to that occasion. Before they had found the cure, the helplessness he had felt while watching Spock be in such unbearable pain, had overwhelmed him. Bones hated to be helpless. It was the worst feeling a doctor could experience when dealing with a patient. At least Spock wasn't in pain right now. But the consequences of a hibernation trance could also be severe. Vulcans could survive in minus zero conditions in their self-inflicted hibernation state for a few days. But Spock would then need significant aftercare to regain his body functions fully and to recover from the strains his body had to endure during the trance. But if they didn't get out of this icy hell in time and find a warmer environment, there was not much he could do for Spock. Unfortunately, Bones had only carried a basic medi kit on his belt when they had descended bellow the planet's surface.

McCoy took a deep breath and urged himself to think in a constructive way. As soon as Chekov would regain consciousness, after the brain-stabilising process had been completed, he could leave the ensign for a while to explore this building and the plateau. Maybe a way out of this ice hell towards a more hospitable place was closer than they dared to hope. And as soon as Spock and Chekov were recovering in a warmer environment, he would go off and look for Scotty, Brown and Monet.

After they had heard Scotty's horrible scream coming from the bottom of the abyss, Spock and Bones had called out to the Chief Engineer and his men. But unfortunately the plateau had continued to move on for about 20 more minutes until it had finally come to a halt at what appeared to be a wall in the unbelievably colossal space bellow the planet's surface. They hadn't received a reply but thankfully Spock had managed to store Scotty's coordinates on his tricoder. Bones planned to take Spock's tricoder, get as close to those coordinates as possible to at least establish voice contact with the Scotsman.

But first things first. His tricoder readings of Spock's metabolism and body functions hadn't changed since he had first measured them after he had treated Chekov. They showed that the Vulcan's temperature had decreased to 39 degrees, which was significant but not life threatening yet. However, the readings weren't sufficient to indicate if Spock was already in mediation to achieve the hibernation state. He would have to ask Spock to really ascertain his exact condition. Of course, the Vulcan would never choose to tell Bones how he was feeling voluntarily.

Annoyed, the Doctor shook his head as he contemplated such stubbornness, but one look at Spock made his irritation disappear. Spock's face wasn't peaceful anymore, his eyes were still closed, but he frowned as if in discomfort. McCoy quickly checked his tricoder readings again and realised that Spock's temperature had dropped another degree to 38. This had to stop. Bones was about to move over to him when Spock suddenly jumped up and started to pace up and down the room with quick, long strides, rubbing his arms.

"Doctor, I apologise for my momentary...absence. I seemed to have fallen asleep." Spock exclaimed, sounding as calm and collected as usual.

"Asleep? I hoped you were getting into that Vulcan hibernation trance of yours, Spock!" McCoy replied grumpily. He didn't like the fact that Spock was obviously fighting against his Vulcan nature. Not in the slightest.

"That would be an illogical way of action, Doctor. According to my recent tricoder readings, Mr. Scott and his men are in a not too distant proximity. 1.34 Kilometres to be precise. However, there is a significant height difference of 255.2 meters between them and us that needs to be overcome. Furthermore, _Ensign_ _Chekov_ requires a warmer environment (McCoy snorted loudly at that point and shook his head in disbelief) to recover. And then there is the important task of finding a way to get back to the ship. Surly, you can understand that my total attention is required to address those matters."

Sometimes McCoy wondered if Spock liked to hear himself speak, just like some horribly obnoxious humans did. He knew some of that kind at Starfleet headquarters. But knowing that Spock was self-less and actually quite modest (despite a certain degree of Vulcan arrogance that seemed to be a natural reaction of his kind when dealing with humans) Bones regarded such notion to most likely being untrue.

Bones checked his medi-tricoder again. Relieved, he noted that Spock's temperature was back to 39 degrees. Obviously, the movement did him good. But the Vulcan wouldn't be able to keep his energy up for much longer and his metabolism would eventually collapse under the strain of the cold. Spock certainly wouldn't be able to do what he had just proposed to him.

If he would have been able to get up, Bones would have gone face to face with Spock who had turned away from him, studying the walls of the room. Bones had to stay seated on the floor, as Chekov needed to be kept warm at all times. Spock of course was aware of this and hence his green-blooded shipmate could just walk away from their developing argument. But Bones vowed not to let it come that far and decided to try another way of reasoning with Spock. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down before he spoke again.

"Spock..." McCoy said gently, making no attempt to disguise his concern "your body temperature is now at 39 degrees. It will decrease several degrees more in the matter of a few hours and then your condition will become life threatening. I know that you are aware of this."

Spock still stood with his back to the Doctor, seemingly ignoring his words. McCoy didn't let such obstinacy disrupt his attempt to make Spock acquiesce.

"I therefore suggest you start to mediate now to attain the hibernation state as soon as possible. Chekov will soon come to and is stable. I will be able to leave him on his own for a bit. I'll explore this building and..."

At this, Spock suddenly turned around and took a few quick strides towards a startled McCoy, coming to a halt just in front of him. He knelt down so that the light of their instruments enabled them to see each other.

"Doctor, it is logical for you to remain with your patient. If there are any complications with Ensign Chekov's recovery I would not be able to assist if I were in a hibernation trance. I'm however in total control of my body functions and don't require a hibernation trance." Spock explained calmly, but with a clear sharpness in his tone.

McCoy gritted his teeth at this. Of course, he had considered it a small possibility that there could be complications with Chekov, but it was a better option to take a small risk than to let Spock freeze to death _for certain._

"I would also not be able to assist Mr. Scott, Lieutenant Brown and Lieutenant Monet. I would become a burden and make it impossible for you to complete the tasks ahead. I would not awaken from this state until I would be brought into a warmer environment." Spock ended his logical analyses of the predicament they were confronted with.

"But you'll freeze to death, goddamnit!" McCoy blurted out.

That much for calmness. The control Bones had briefly managed was slowly but surly slipping away from him.

"I can assure you that I don't plan to do so, Doctor. I will hasten my exploration of this location to hopefully find a warmer enviroment, or some protection against this cold, to continue working on the tasks I have just mentioned to you."

At this, Spock got up and turned away from McCoy again. He walked towards the opening in the wall that lead to the room to their left which was lying between the room they were in and the platform. McCoy was just about to shout an insult after the Vulcan referring to the shape of his ears and the colour of his blood, when Spock suddenly stopped in the opening between the rooms and leaned towards the frame. For a moment all McCoy could do was to stare on in horror as Spock started to shake violently and just about managed to stay on his feet. The incident was made visible by the dim light of the CSO's tricoder that flickered as his body shivered violently. McCoy carefully laid Chekov down on the floor and rushed towards the Vulcan. The shaking had stopped and Spock seemed to regain control over his body again. He straightened up and lifted his head, his gaze fixed on the room ahead and the darkness outside on the platform that lay behind it.

"You're in no condition to go back out there, Spock!" McCoy pleaded with the Vulcan, his voice now displaying more concern than actual anger towards his superior. "Let _me_ go and you stay with Chekov. You don't have to get into a full trance, maybe just a little rest will be..."

At this Spock lifted his hand to signal McCoy to stop talking. The CSO tilted his head slightly as if he was listening out for something.

"I've heard some faint sound as if a giant motor has been switched back on. I also detect some movement, Doctor." Spock explained with a weak but controlled voice.

Now, Bones could feel it too. The platform started to move again. And as if on cue, Chekov started to toss on the floor. McCoy quickly rushed back to him, his medi-scanner already in his hand before he even reached the ensign. Spock fixed his gaze on his tricoder.

"The platform is moving back towards where we have been earlier on, Doctor. In 19.44 minutes we will reach the point where we have detected Mr. Scott's voice coming from the bottom of the abyss."

Even tough McCoy registered the good news Spock had just told him, he was completely focused on Chekov. The readings on his medi-scanner told him that they had a bit of a problem.

"Spock, Chekov's waking up. It's too early. Goddamnit!"

McCoy injected the young Russian with half a hypo of Jozamine, a sleeping formula, while at the same time readjusting the brain-stabiliser's electronic impulses to support Chekov's unconsciousness.

Spock slowly walked towards them and McCoy noted out of the corner of his eye that the Vulcan was making an obvious effort to maintain a straight posture. The First Officer came to a halt next to them and carefully lowered himself down. McCoy knew that Spock was fighting to stay awake and maintain control over his movements, his body probably urging him to switch into the hibernation trance mode as soon as possible.

"Spock, why don't you rest here for a bit? Chekov's stable again. I've readjusted the stabiliser and he's back to full unconsciousness. But I don't know how this could have happened. I've just checked the stabiliser's functions a few minutes ago. Unless there was another interference, of course." McCoy remarked quietly, feeling concern for his two shipmates in every fibre of his body.

How on earth could he help them under such hostile conditions? If the freezing cold, malfunctioning equipment and the darkness weren't enough, he was also up against Spock's stubbornness. And this could turn out to be the most dangerous condition McCoy would have to deal with. He shuddered at the thought of what Spock would do if he failed to convince the Vulcan to see reason and protect himself. Bones had to succeed; this was an argument he just had to win! For everyone's sake. Unfortunately there was one ace Spock could pull out of his sleeve and then the trouble for McCoy would really start.

"We are moving back towards the disruptive energy source bellow us, Doctor. It's still about two kilometres bellow this plateau, but maybe the little distance we are getting closer to the source is significant regarding the functionality of our equipment." Spock explained calmly.

"Your tricoder seems to work properly though." McCoy noted, a little relieved that at least something was working all right.

"This seems to be the case, at least for now." Spock replied. "However, it is logical that you stay with Mr. Chekov until he regains consciousness, in case the stabiliser malfunctions again." Spock remarked, the satisfaction about the incontestable logic of his statement evident in his tone.

_Goddamn logic_, McCoy shouted out in his mind. What on earth was logic worth when it endangered a man's life? _Nothing!_ That was the answer. It was worth nothing! But he had to remain calm not to push the Vulcan too far. For he knew that Spock would do _everything _to go ahead with his plan if Bones did not succeed to convince him otherwise.

"As Chief Medical Officer I'm reminding you that it is my responsibility to secure your well-being, Spock. It is also extremely dangerous for all of us if you become immobilised. Even if we find Scotty and the others, we still depend on your knowledge and expertise to help us get back to the _Enterprise_." McCoy did his best to remain reasonable and to his dismay he had already pulled his only ace out of his sleeve. An ace he knew Spock had up his sleeve as well. And he feared Spock would use that ace.

_Rank._

"And_ my_ duty is to use exactly that knowledge and expertise to complete this mission successfully. Time is essential, Doctor. I cannot afford to rest. In 10.05 minutes we will reach the location again when the platform will be exactly at the point above the abyss where we have detected Mr. Scott's voice. In the remaining minutes, I will prepare myself to establish communication to the missing men, to eventually retrieve them. Rest is not an option. If you will excuse me now, Doctor, I will return to the edge of the platform." At this Spock got up, slowly but determinedly, and walked away.

"Wait a minute, goddamnit!" In an instant McCoy was back to his feet and got in Spock's way, preventing the Vulcan from leaving the room.

"It's illogical that you risk your life and therefore risk all _our_ lives, too!" McCoy literally spat the words at Spock, not caring anymore if he would provoke the First Officer to enforce his decision by pulling the ace McCoy had already wasted.

"As I have tried to make you understand before, I am under control of my body functions and I can assure you that I will remain to be until it is safe and appropriate for me to rest. And may I also point out to you that your constantly expressed disbelief regarding my assertions is bordering on insubordination, Doctor McCoy. As your superior officer, I _order_ you to remain with Ensign Chekov and no longer hinder me from fulfilling my duty." Spock replied, his words spoken with a much harsher tone than he usually allowed himself to use during one of his countless arguments with the irrational CMO.

McCoy totally ignored the second half of Spock's statement. He had already known that it would come that far and that Spock would play the rank card on him. However, the Vulcan's arrogance regarding his abilities was infuriating and the Doctor's anger was finally getting the better of him.

"Control, my ass! What about that seizure a moment ago? Where was your great, Vulcan control then, Mr. Spock?" McCoy shouted out, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

McCoy had the feeling that for only a split second Spock had been taken aback by his remark. But only for a split second. The Vulcan quickly regained his determined demeanour, his posture straight, his chin lifted, his gaze cold and strict. There was a reason why Spock was First Officer, McCoy noted grimly to himself. With all the scientific responsibilities that Spock claimed to be his main motivations to work on a starship, the Vulcan was also a brilliant _soldier,_ a tactician, as he was proving to the Doctor now. Spock choose to come back with a question, attack being the best defence.

"And while I'm incapacitated, who is going to retrieve the landing party, save the Ensign, guarantee my well-being _and _at the same time find a way to get us all back to the ship?_ You,_ Doctor?"

In the dim light of the tricoder that was hanging from Spock's shoulder, McCoy could detect the undisguised, totally certain superiority in the First Officer's cold glare towards him, his head up high and posture perfectly still.

McCoy felt uncontrolled rage boil inside him, so strong and livid that he felt a nauseous taste at the back of his throat.

"_You Vulcan son-of-a-bitch" _McCoy replied quietly, accentuation every single word, his voice rough and hoarse from all the anger that he felt boiling inside. But whatever happened now, he would _have_ to somehow control that anger. That was _his _duty towards Chekov, Scotty, Brown and Monet.

Even without the insult regarding the choice of his words, the harshness in McCoy's tone left no doubt to both of them that this had developed far beyond one of their usual arguments. This was war.

A war McCoy knew he would lose, but by God, not without showing that arrogant, green-blooded bastard what he was made off.

"Go and freeze to death out there, Spock. But don't expect me to come after you before it's too late. I've got a patient here who _wants _to live and I better use what medicine I got left on him!"

At that, McCoy turned around without bestowing the Vulcan with another look. He sat back down next to Chekov, taking the ensign's hand again.

If he would have spared the CSO another look and if the lighting conditions would have been better, McCoy would have seen a rare emotion evident in Spock's eyes.

_Hurt._

The First Officer turned on his heels and left the room towards the platform without looking back.

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_A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed or alerted this story so far!_

_While I don't think I will be able to finish it while I'm still on holiday (as there are still quite a few chapters to follow), I will definitely complete it. Next year that is :)_

_Happy New Year!_


	14. Cold

**Cold**

The cold seemed to be everywhere. All around him and inside of him. There was no way out, no way to escape it.

About an hour ago Spock's tricoder had malfunctioned again as he was getting closer to the colossal energy source bellow the abyss that had been interfering with their instruments all along. Just before the tricoder had switched itself off, it had indicated the temperature was 5 degrees bellow zero. Spock estimated that an hour had passed since then and that the temperature had fallen at least another 5 degrees.

Since Spock had started his descent towards the bottom of the abyss, every fibre of his body was urging his mind to sit down to initiate the hibernation trance. He needed to start the trance as soon as possible before it was too late and he wouldn't have enough strength anymore and collapse.

_But there's still time,_ Spock told himself. _Not yet._

_I mustn't give in to my urge_. _I have control over my body and mind, I have control over my mind and body, _Spock was silently repeating in his mind over and over again. 5 lives were depending on his functioning, on his ability to find a logical way out of this dark, freezing vastness that was filled with unknown machines and energies.

Spock had to gather all his mental strengths and controlling skills just to keep on walking. His mind was alert as usual but he was battling exhaustion, a condition he had never experienced in his life as severe as this. As a Vulcan he had learned at a young age to suppress his human emotions, urges and desires. Therefore, it had become his habit to automatically favour his Vulcan half whenever he felt a battle between his mother and father's genes erupt within himself. And right now his Vulcan half was warning him that if he wouldn't initiate the hibernation trance soon, he would collapse and fall into a coma just like McCoy had predicted. A coma his mind wouldn't be able to control. He would never regain conciseness because only a Vulcan healer would be able to reawaken him from a coma. However, if he was to initiate the hibernation trance, he would be able to control his body functions and his subconscious survival mechanism would keep him alive. So why wasn't he obeying what his Vulcan logic was dictating him?

_There's still time. I can go on._

Something in the depth of his soul was stopping him, preventing him from allowing himself even just one minute to slow down and relax. His behaviour was illogical because soon he would collapse. Spock couldn't deny it any longer- it seemed like this time, his human half had the upper hand and was dictating his actions.

Spock was climbing down the steps he had discovered at the edge of the platform. They were leading down towards the bottom of the abyss where he had detected Mr. Scott's voice 2.25 hours ago. While he descended down the stairs, slowly and carefully, Spock couldn't stop himself from searching his mind for answers why he was acting illogically. McCoy had been right. He wouldn't be helping anyone if he was to fall into a coma. And die.

Spock forced himself to ignore his inner turmoil to gather his mental strength and focus on the task ahead. He had been very fortunate to discover those steps. And it was also fortunate that the platform wasn't moving at the moment. Spock knew that the platform would have to remain where it was until he had reached the bottom of the abyss, retrieved the landing party and returned to the top of the platform with them. The steps were leading up from the bottom of the abyss and weren't attached to the platform. So if it moved again before they had reached it, they would be separated from the Doctor and Ensign Chekov. And without functioning tricoders it would be nearly impossible to localise them in the planet's gigantic sub-surface space. Without the tricoder he was also not able to analyse what awaited him at the pitch-black bottom of the abyss. Right now, Spock only knew that he was gradually coming closer to his destination.

The steps were about a meter high and it took Spock some effort and strength in his weakened condition to overcome them, one at a time. Spock realised that he was forcing his frozen limps to obey him like some kind of stubborn robot whose batteries were running low but who insisted to move on. At this thought, Spock halted abruptly. He suddenly knew why he didn't allow himself to initiate the hibernation trance. And the answer shocked him. The reason was..._Fear._

Illogical as it was, he was experiencing fear and the emotion prevented him from starting the trance.

Spock walked on stubbornly, taking the next step just as determined as the previous ones, but slower.

He was scared that he would let his shipmates down. That they would perish because of his failure to control his mind and body. That would be unacceptable to the Captain but also to himself. He was aware of the great danger that if he was to rest only for a moment, it was likely that his body, his survival instinct, would automatically initiate the hibernation trance that would incapacitate him to save the others. He would remain in hibernation until he would be taken to a warmer environment. But the tricoders hadn't indicated any area bellow the planet's surface that had a temperature above 0 degrees. In any case, Spock wouldn't allow himself to become a burden to the others._ He_ was in charge and it was his responsibility to save them, not the other way round. And while he remained conscious there was at least a chance that he would fulfil his duties just in time before he would eventually collapse.

But Spock's Vulcan half continued to plead with him to do the logical thing and rest, arguing just like McCoy had done a few hours before. Back then, the Doctor had surprised Spock by displaying a rare ability to assess a situation logically: if Spock was collapsing into a coma he wouldn't be of any use to anyone. But Spock understood now that he had no other choice but to accept that his stubborn, human half of his being had, for once, gained the upper hand over his Vulcan half. And his human instincts told him to take his chances: He had to try and finish the task; he was the only hope his men had.

Spock took a deep breath and continued his descent. He had estimated that he was three quarters down the steps and would reach the bottom of the abyss in about 10 minutes.

Spock wasn't really surprised by his human emotions. They had always been a part of him but during years of thorough practice he had managed to control them. And on the rare occasions when control was failing him, he simply suppressed them. But he was surprised that his fear and worry for his shipmates had made it _so easy _for him to disregard his Vulcan half. Usually it was_ easy_ to suppress the human part of his being because it was illogical and unworthy of a Vulcan to let his actions being dictated by emotions.

As Spock was analysing his motivations to carry on, he suddenly realised that he was feeling another human emotion deep down in his heart; an emotion that was closely inter-linked with his fear: _Relief. _

Relief about being too scared to give in to his body's urges because his intuition told him that even though he was acting illogically, he was doing the right thing. The situation demanded that he walked on down those stairs. Step by step, meter after meter. As Spock was recalling Scotty's terrible scream in his memory, his already shaking body shook even more. The Chief Engineer and his men were very likely in immediate danger. Without noticing, Spock quickened his pace.

Even though this suppressed part of his character was telling him that he was doing the right thing, Spock was deeply ashamed that he was such a slave to his human emotions. However, the soft and gentle voice of his human half whispered to him that Jim would have been proud on Spock's ability to behave like a human in situations that warranted so.

_Jim.._.Spock was convinced that if the Captain would have been here with him right now, he would have helped him to put his emotionality into perspective. While Spock felt like he was committing a sin against his Vulcan heritage, Jim would try to convince him that he was doing his _human_ heritage proud by acting out of compassion for his shipmates. In fact, Spock was well aware that he was acting out of the same motivation that underpinned all of Captain Kirk's decisions at all times-just like his CO, Spock was acting out of_ concern_ for the men under his command. He wondered if 14 months at Kirk's side had made him too lenient, too uncontrolled regarding his human half.

_Kirk had a negative influence on me,_ Spock's Vulcan half stated coolly in his mind. _But such a thought is illogical,_ his human half countered quickly, _for how can it be that a trait I admire in my Captain, I despise for myself? _

Spock sighed and as he slowly climbed down the next step he remembered the last time Jim had acted out of concern towards _him_. When he had demanded the promise of Spock and McCoy to get along._ Jim's promise._.. . He had already broken that promise. Spock suddenly stopped and drooped. He had broken the promise he had given his Captain and friend. He was not only unworthy of being a Vulcan, he was even unworthy of a human, as he wasn't able to obey a simple moral ritual of his mother's people - the promise. Of course, McCoy had also broken that promise, but what could have been expected from such an impulsive and irrational individual like the CMO? The quiet, soft voice in his mind reminded him that Jim had deemed the Doctor capable to keep such a promise, otherwise he wouldn't have asked it of him. His judgement of McCoy was therefore unjust. Spock had just risen his right eyebrow at such a surprising conclusion when he heard a soft moan nearby. He stepped forward and realised that no more steps were following the last one. He had reached the bottom of the abyss.

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Spock stood still in the pitch-black, icy cold that was surrounding him. He was concentrating all his energy on his hearing senses. Where had that moan come from? There- he heard it again. Soft and distant. Approximately 21.5 meters to his left.

Spock took off into that direction. "Mr. Scott?"

No answer.

"Lieutenant Monet, Lieutenant Brown?"

No answer.

"Commander Spock here. Please give me a sign if you're there."

Spock tried hard to sound confident and composed and not to reveal the concern he was feeling in his voice. He also suppressed the chattering of his teeth. If the men were nearby and alive, he had to convey control and composure towards them. He was here to rescue them.

"_Spock..."_

A hoarse, quiet whisper, 10 meters ahead of him. It had been just one word, but Spock had no doubt who had spoken it.

Commander Montgomery Scott was alive.

"I'm here, Commander, I shall reach you in 5.1 seconds."

Spock quickened his pace and rushed towards the soft voice. His senses were so sensitive towards warmth in his present condition, that he noticed the two bodies that emitted some energy before he could detect them in the dim light of his tricoder. The instrument was still not working properly, but at least the display light was operational and helped him to identify Mr. Scott on the floor.

Spock stopped and knelt down next to the CEO who was lying in a foetal position on the ice-cold ground. Instinctively, Spock reached for Scotty's hand to comfort the engineer who appeared to be injured.

"Mr. Spock, I'm mighty glad you're here" Scott said quietly, responding to Spock's gentle squeeze of his hand.

"Are you injured, Commander?" Spock asked in a calm tone.

"I think I've sprained me left foot and I gotta decent bump on me head!" Scott explained as he tried to sit up. He managed to do so when Spock assisted him and gently pulled him up. The Vulcan was well aware that lying for too long on the cold ground was dangerous for the human.

"But I think me lads weren't that lucky." Scotty exclaimed, worry and fear evident in his voice. "Mr. Spock, where are they? I just came too and only remember how we got down here but not what happened after that. We were standing on a square platform on that strange planet's surface when we suddenly started to descend into this abyss. And then the platform suddenly stopped and we fell off and...I don't remember anymore. But the probe..."

"If you're well enough for the moment, Mr. Scott, I shall try and ascertain what happened to Lieutenant Brown and Monet." Spock interrupted. " You can give me an account of what else has happened when we have confirmed their conditions." Spock said in controlled but quiet tone.

Even in his confused state, Scotty noticed that Spock was making an extra effort to sound controlled. Also, he had been concerned when Spock's ice-cold hand had touched him. He knew that the Vulcan's handshake was usually much warmer than a human's due to his different metabolism. He also knew that Spock found the general temperature of 25 degrees aboard the Enterprise quiet chilly and required a warmer environment in his quarters. He had personally adjusted the temperature in the First Officer's personal spaces to 37 degrees. He wondered how the Vulcan was coping in such freezing conditions.

"Aye. You're right, Mr. Spock. Dona worry 'bout me, I'll be fine, I just need a moment to come to me senses. But please look for me lads. I think they're nearby." Scotty replied, also making an effort to sound calm and collected as not to trouble Spock unnecessarily.

Spock had already moved to his left to explore the closer vicinity.

"Yes, Mr. Scott, Lieutenant Brown is right next to you." Spock announced as he touched the engineering assistant's face. He had recognised the young man due to his curly hair.

"He is unconscious but none of his limps seem to be broken" Spock continued as he checked Brown for external injuries.

Scotty sighed a breath of relief. He shifted towards the injured Lieutenant and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What about Lieutenant Monet, Spock?"

"I don't think he's nearby as I don't sense any more sources of heat in the vicinity" Spock said as he stood up and walked on "I shall check further down the..."

Spock was silenced by a thud as he bumped into a lifeless form on the floor. He lowered himself down to inquire further.

"What is it, Spock? Have you found Louis?"

"Yes" Spock replied solemnly as he took his hand from Lieutenant Monet's neck "I'm sorry, Mr. Scott. The Lieutenant is dead. He seemed to have broken his neck during the fall."

"Oh no! No, no. Good Lord. My poor laddie..." Scotty blurted out as he held his hands before his face. He realised Spock wouldn't see the tears that were building up in his eyes anyway in the darkness they were in. He lowered his hands again, putting them back on Brown's shoulders.

For a while they sat quietly, each tormented by their own demons. Spock felt that anything he would say would be inadequate to help Scotty cope with his grief. So he simply sat down next to Brown and the Chief Engineer and checked Brown's pulse once again. Spock noted satisfied that it was slow but steady.

Spock was also satisfied about the fact that he hadn't collapsed into a coma yet. He would have to tell Mr. Scott as quickly as possible how to get to Dr. McCoy and the ensign before it was too late.

"That damn planet! What on earth happened, Mr. Spock? Scotty suddenly shouted out, abruptly ending the silence between them and preventing Spock from saying his bit. "I mean, straight away it was obvious to us that we hadn't ended up on Adelous 4 and when the Hoffmann 7 probe arrived I knew we had gotten ourselves into some mighty mess. Why else would you've been forced to send a probe, and not a landing party after us?"

Spock was surprised that he had forgotten the probe for a moment there. His concern for the three missing men and his own struggle to stay conscious had obviously weakened his ability to think clearly.

In a few sentences Spock now summed up the recent events for Scott who was listening intently. If there would have been light, Spock would have seen the baffled face of the Chief Engineer who listened with his mouth wide open as Spock shared his knowledge about the gigantic space they were in and the strange machinery and energies it contained.

"Well, the scream you heard was me all right." Scotty chipped in. "I tried to fix that damn tin can. The bloody machine gave me an electric shock when I touched it." Scotty explained as he shook his head, exhausted. "It had materialised next to us just before we started to descend into this ice-hell. I had managed to send the first message above ground but then during the first part of the descent it started to smell funny and we saw some smoke coming out from the bottom. Probably some cables had burned through during the transport. When the platform halted after a few moments, I quickly wanted to send another message but instead the tin can decided to fry me. Then we descended further until all of a sudden the platform stopped again, but this time so abruptly that we fell off. I heard poor Brownie scream when we crashed onto the floor but then me mind went as black as everything else."

At this, Brown started to move and Spock gently took the injured Lieutenant in his arms.

"He is struggling to regain consciousness, Mr. Scott" Spock said quietly, well aware that he on the other hand was struggling to stay conscious. The Vulcan knew that it could only be minutes now until he would fall into a coma. Thankfully he had already managed to inform Scott of everything that had happened and how they could get to the location of Dr. McCoy and Ensign Chekov.

"What can we do?" Scotty said with fear in his voice. Spock pulled Brown closer and carefully placed his left hand onto his face.

"I will try to assist the Lieutenant in his endeavour through a mind meld." Spock explained calmly.

Scotty gasped for air but before he could express his concern -for Brown _and_ Spock- the First Officer continued.

"When Mr. Brown is conscious again you will then proceed to reach Doctor McCoy and Ensign Chekov. That is an order, Mr. Scott."

Scotty didn't like the Vulcan's monotone tone. Spock usually sounded neutral, but the way he sounded right now made Scotty shiver even more. If a dead man could talk he would sound like the Vulcan, Scotty realised solemnly. What the hell was going on?

"Spock, I dona like this. Not one tiny bit!"

"I have no time to argue your preferences, Mr. Scott. You will obey my orders." The last words were said with the Vulcan's usual sharpness when he was demanding obedience of his officers. Then he fell silent and Scotty knew that he was focusing on his mind-meld. He ordered himself to shut up and leave Spock to it, not daring to interrupt his delicate Vulcan healing powers.

After a few quiet minutes where Scott could only vaguely detect the movement of Spock's fingers on Brown's face, the young assistant engineer suddenly regained consciousness.

"Lieutenant Delroy Brown reporting to duty, Sir." He said in a hoarse but otherwise controlled voice. Scotty had to smile to himself. Spock had possibly bossed the lad around during the meld and _ordered _him to wake up. And Brown just replied to his superior as it was customary.

"Sir? Why is it so dark?" Brown's voice was steady but slightly baffled.

Scotty squeezed the officer's shoulders encouragingly "It's all right, I'm here, Del. So is Mr. Spock. Are you injured?"

"Mr. Scott! Boy, am I glad to hear your voice." Brown sounded obviously surprised to hear his direct superior next to him. "I don't think I am, Sir. Mr. Spock just asked me the same thing."

Scotty had to grin again. The boy was blissfully unaware that he had just been subjected to a Vulcan mind-meld. The First Officer probably remained silent for the moment to give the young Lieutenant a chance to gather his senses.

"I just seemed to have strained my leg. And I've got a decent headache. But apart from that I think I'm all right." Brown continued. "Where's Louie?"

Scotty sighed and was looking for the right words to explain to Delroy that his best friend was dead as suddenly a loud thud interrupted the silence. Scott immediately knew what had happened and reached out with both arms into the darkness next to him.

"Mr. Spock!" Scotty cried out. He reached down and touched the Vulcan's icy cheeks. Spock had collapsed to the floor. Scotty shook him gently, then more fiercely, pleading with him to wake up. But his efforts were to no avail, the First Officer didn't move an inch.

Scotty felt desperation creep into his heart and soul. What the hell was going on? Had the cold made Spock collapse or had he omitted to mention an injury? That would figure, as the Vulcan never spoke of such perceived shortcomings like injuries unless he was pressed to do so. He put his cheek towards Spock's mouth and noticed his faint, very slow breathing. Scotty's heart dropped. The Vulcan was alive.

But just about.

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Sorry, for not having updated for a while. I'm back at work after the holidays and quite busy. But this story will be finished, I promise! So don't worry if you don't hear from me for a few weeks.

Like always-I'm grateful for comments and reviews. And also a big thank you to everyone who is baring with this story, who has alerted it, added it to favorites or reviewed it. It means so much to me to know there are people out there who enjoy reading the story just as much as I enjoy writing it. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my 'devoted reader', thanks for all your encouragement! :)


	15. Irish Stew and Brandy

Irish Stew and Brandy

A steaming cup of tea with a shot of Terran Brandy. Hot pancakes with maple sirup. A boiling pot of Irish stew. A mug of creamy hot chocolate.

During the estimated 3 hours since Spock's disappearance into the darkness outside, Bones had been busy with imagining what he would get himself first when they'd be lucky enough to get back to the _Enterprise. _Usually he would have disregarded such thoughts as unnecessary mind-games that would only increase the desperation one felt in a threatening situation. But then Chekov had woken up after the brain-scanner had managed to heal his head injury faster than anticipated and they started to chat. McCoy suspected that his initial diagnosis of Chekov and the estimated length of the healing process hadn't been accurate due to the interference most of their instruments were experiencing from the energy source bellow. But thankfully this interference hadn't applied to the brain-scanner and McCoy assumed that it had to do with the machine's mechanics. While tricoders, communicaters and phaseres operated with an electro-magnetic energy circuit, the brain-scanner drew his energy from a dilicium batterie. But the strange energy Spock had detected about 1000 meters bellow the plateau they were currently on, appeared to interfere with electro-magneticaly powered instruments only. Bones was incredibly thankful - Chekov owned his life to such fortune. God knew, they hadn't had much luck with anything else since they had arrived on this strange planetoid.

So when Chekov had regained consciousness a few hours previously, their conversation somehow had quickly turned to food and drink. _Hot _food and drink. While McCoy was sitting right next to the ensign to provide him with some warmth, they had talked about their favourite meals and beverages. Chekov kept insisting that Vodka was by far the better choice compared to Brandy when it came to warming oneself up in the cold. Soon after he had fallen asleep and McCoy was grateful that the young Russian was able to get some rest.

His mind still occupied with stew and brandy, Bones now had to think of the new diet he had put Jim on recently. The Captain had somehow managed to gain a few extra pounds, despite his physically demanding duties and his regular work-outs in the gym. Bones smiled a broad grin._ It probably has to do with his unscheduled late night snacks he's secretly having in his quarters when I'm not around. _Bones chuckled quietly.

_Jim..._ The smile slowly disappeared from McCoy's face.

He had made a promise to Jim before he left the _Enterprise_.

McCoy bit his lip. It had only taken him a few hours to break that promise. If he thought of it, he hadn't even tried to keep it. But to be perfectly honest Bones admitted to himself, he had simply _forgotten_ the promise since they had arrived on the planet.

_Consciously _forgotten it_..._

Of course, Spock was just as guilty as he was thanks to his goddman stubbornness and Vulcan arrogance, but did this make his own behaviour acceptable? Of course it didn't. Bones shook his head, his forehead in a deep frown. Blaming Spock couldn't distract from the fact that he had broken a promise he had made to his friend and Captain. What kind of friend was he that he hadn't even tried to keep it?

McCoy recapitulated the last few hours since their arrival on the unknown planetoid. Fair enough, they had been under immense stress and the circumstances were far from cosy. But it was amazing how easy it was for the Vulcan to unsettle him, to unnerve him, to _piss him off_ to the extent that Bones would consciously forget about the promise so that he wouldn't need to obey it. And _obey_ was the appropriate term for he had not just broken a promise but disobeyed a direct order from his CO.

Bones crossed his arms and frowned into the darkness in front of him. Everyone else on board the _Enterprise_ managed to tolerate the First Officer's strange quirks and behaviour, why on earth couldn't he? Bones shook his head, wondering. Of course, due to the nature of their jobs as the respective heads of their departments they couldn't really avoid one another and had to work together a lot. But Jim, who had to work with Spock _all the time,_ also got on better than anyone else with the Vulcan.

_Maybe Jim is more tolerant_, a quiet voice in Bones' head suggested. Mmh. Maybe. McCoy had never considered himself as intolerant towards other species, xenophobia was foreign to him and he despised it in others. But that wasn't really the point. Jim was also more _patient_ and Bones was well aware of this.

With a deep sigh, Bones concluded that he wasn't intolerant towards people or certain species, but rather intolerant towards certain character traits and behaviour patterns of some individuals. Spock's stubbornness annoyed him just as much as did Jim's pigheadedness. The Captain's pretended invincibility was just as irresponsible as Spock's inclination to constantly risk his neck for others on landing part duty. But McCoy noted that it just happened to be the case that the Vulcan had_ more_ annoying character traits than anyone else aboard. Above all, McCoy was infuriated by Spock's aloofness and cold-heartedness. Bones just couldn't believe that Spock was supposed to be half-human.

_Nothing wrong with logic_, McCoy mused. But having logic as the first and only point of reference in life was a bit sad. And probably it was making one very lonely. Bones hadn't even realised that he was kneading his lips until he suddenly halted doing so at the last thought.

_Lonely._

Thinking of it, Bones realised that apart from Jim, Spock was rather isolated from the rest of the crew. Of course, the First Officer was highly respected by everyone aboard the _Enterprise._ But when it came to Spock's personal contacts, to socialising and undertaking communal activities in his free time, Bones had difficulty to think of anything that didn't include Jim. Uhura had told him that once or twice Spock had shown her how to play on the Vulcan lyre, an activity that was of huge interest to the musical Communications Officer. But apart from that he couldn't think of any more occasions when the Vulcan had willingly socialised with any crew members. Of course, the job didn't leave much opportunity for hobbies and the like, and many of the crew simply choose to rest in their free time, especially during stressful missions. However, since McCoy had been onboard there had also been quiet a lot of free time which the CMO always aimed to use constructively.

But in actual fact, Bones admitted to himself, he didn't have that many friends on board either apart from Jim. It weren't many, but at least he had a _few _friends: Scotty with whom he regularly shared a drink or two of Scottish Whiskey, Christine Chapel who he enjoyed discussing his medical research with, Uhura and Sulu who he sometimes shared a late-night coffee in the cafeteria when they all were working the gamma shift. So yes, he only had a handful friends on board, but Bones had always known that when it came to relationships it definitely was about quality not quantity. But Spock...his only friend on board was Jim and the Vulcan just didn't do spontaneous socialising like Bones and the others did. Hence, Spock's character and behaviour was obviously isolating him from his human colleagues. And Bones didn't blame them.

Or did he?

Wasn't it true that actually he was spending quiet a bit of his free time with Spock? Bones would often join Spock and Jim in the Captain's quarters for a good-night drink after their obligatory evening of chess on a Wednesday and Saturday- Spock would have a cup of herbal tea while he and Jim would indulge into something more potent. Didn't they share most of their meals together in the cafeteria? And what about the regular occasions when he asked Spock for some advice regarding his medical research or when the First Officer approached him to discuss the Captain's general medical status or well-being? And when Bones had taken part in a martial-arts course Sulu was hosting a little while ago -where they had to work in pairs- he had teamed up with Spock who was also taking part.

Thinking about it, Bones realised that in actual fact he was spending _most _of his free time with Spock in one way or the other. McCoy rose an eyebrow as he realised that this was rather a lot of contact to someone he never tired to express his dislike for. He sighed. There was no denial, it would only be fair to describe Spock as a _friend. _Maybe not such a close friend as Jim- and who could be anyway - but a friend nevertheless. He had never met anyone who could irritate him so much than Spock. But it was also true that he had never met anyone with the same quality of loyalty, intelligence and trustworthiness as the Vulcan. Plus they shared many professional interests. And most importantly- they shared the same best friend.

McCoy grimaced in the darkness as the realisation hit him. The Vulcan First Officer had become a friend during the last year. But he doubted that Spock felt the same about him. Spock also never got tired of exclaiming that the contact he had with the CMO was always out of necessity. McCoy was far too irrational, emotional and passionate for Spock's logical and controlled nature.

In conclusion, Bones doubted that Spock was able to establish and maintain friendships with anyone apart from Jim with whom he seemed to share a special connection. A connection that was possible nurtured by the close contact and special trust a First Officer and Captain always shared. Friends or no friends, in any case Bones decided that if he should see Spock again, he would try harder to obey Jim's promise. At least for the rest of this mission.

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_Sorry for my prolonged absence. The next chapter is already in the pipeline. Comments and reviews are welcome!_


	16. The Disruptors

_My sincere apologies to anyone who has waited patiently for the next chapter. Work is getting in the way of being creative and finding time to write. But- I will finish this story and there's not too many chapters left now. The next one's already written,it just needs a little polish before I can publish it. So thanks again to all the faithful readers of this story. Reviews and feedback are like always very welcome. Thank you all!_

The Disrupters

Scotty was mighty glad that had told him the location of McCoy and Chekov _before _the Vulcan had collapsed. Otherwise they'd be in an even bigger mess than they were already in. They had to reach the plateau high above them at the end of the staircase. And they had to reach it fast- before the gigantic construct would be moving away again like it had done before when the Doctor and the First Officer had heard him scream when the Hoffman 7 probe had decided to turn on him. Scotty had no idea when -and if- the plateau would return again to the top end of the staircase. All he knew was that he, Del Brown and Spock were at the bottom end of a very long and steep staircase that was leading to their two shipmates and friends above on the plateau.

It had only been a few minutes since Spock had fallen unconscious but Scotty felt he had already wasted enough time. The other reason why they had to act quickly was lying at his feet on the ice cold floor. He and Brown had a patient to deliver to McCoy. And they better be quick.

The CEO hastily attached the still inoperative Hoffmann 7 probe to his belt and got hold of Spock's instruments that were flickering due to the mysterious energy source the First Officer had told him about. It lay somewhere hidden in the deep darkness bellow them. In the dim light the Vulcan's instruments were emitting, Scotty could see Brown's worried face. He didn't need to tell the lad what to do. A serious nod in his direction was enough to set them in motion.

The Chief Engineer got hold of Spock's shoulders and was slowly proceeding up the stairs backwards while the Lieutenant was carrying the legs of the unconscious man. Due to the darkness and the uncertainty about Spock's exact condition they tried their best to be as careful as possible. Even though the Vulcan was of slender built his tall stature made him quiet heavy and they had to pause every other minute or so to catch their breaths.

Brown was fulfilling the task eagerly even though Scotty could detect tiredness and fear that was clearly reflected on the young man's face. Like Scott, Delroy had recovered rather well from their fall and resulting unconsciousness. Apart from a slight dizziness and hurting limps the two of them were in pretty good shape Scotty decided. Which unfortunately couldn't be said of Spock. He wondered what the devil was wrong with the Vulcan? Was he injured? Exhausted? Had the cold gotten to him? Scotty thought that exhaustion could be excluded, as he had never experienced Spock in such a mundane condition like being tired. They had been on much longer and just as challenging missions before and Spock never seemed to get tired, regardless of the difficult situations they were finding themselves in. Due to his Vulcan metabolism and energy preserving techniques, he could go without sleep for days, even under very tough conditions. A few months ago Scott, Spock and 5 others had crashed with the Galileo shuttle on a planet that was inhabited by hostile savages. For several days, they had faced a fight for survival while at the same time they had to repair the severely damaged shuttle to hopefully get them back to the _Enterprise_. Scotty had worked extremely hard, trying out every conceivable way to repair the Galileo. Sometimes he had rested, maybe just an hour or two, but even a tough Scotsman had to have a little nap now and then to regain his energies. But Spock...he hadn't slept, or even just rested for a minute during those dramatic days. Dr. McCoy, who had also been among the 7 crew, had tried several times to convince the stubborn Vulcan to rest. Spock of course had just raised an eyebrow and then reminded the Good Doctor that their predicament demanded his full attention and that compared to humans, Vulcans were physiologically superior anyway. Naturally, McCoy did have a word or two to say in return. One word gave the other and in the end the CSO and CMO weren't talking at all and the atmosphere inside the stranded shuttle was nearly as hostile as it was outside where gigantic spears would be thrown at them at every opportunity. It had been incredible difficult for Scott to maintain the peace between Spock and the other officers who doubted the Vulcan's leadership abilities. Especially McCoy had criticised Spock's decision making during that fateful mission as it was entirely based on logic. But in the end it was Spock's logical decision to try the last chance they had to gain the _Enterprise's _attention, that saved the lives of the 5 survivors.

At those unpleasant memories, Scotty frowned to himself while they were taking another brief pause. He heard Brown's heavy breathing but apart from that only erie silence surrounded them. In any case, Scotty sincerely hoped the Doctor would be able to do something for Spock. If they were lucky enough to reach him and Chekov in time.

"You're all right there, laddie?" Scotty asked into the darkness behind him, knowing that his young assistant was just a meter or so away.

"Yes, Mr. Scott. But I'm concerned about Mr. Spock. What on earth is wrong with him?"

Scotty sighed loudly.

"I wish I knew, Del. Either he's injured or he can't cope with the cold. Maybe both. You know that Vulcans can't survive for long in bellow freezing temperatures as their metabolism can't function properly."

" Yes, I heard that before but I thought it was some kind of myth. I mean, it's strange anyway. I've never seen Mr. Spock struggle under any 's always the strongest of us all." Brown exclaimed, bewilderment and concern in his voice.

"Aye. He's usually a tough fellow, isn't he? But I..."

Scotty's words got stuck in his throat as suddenly he felt strong vibrations beneath his feet. The staircase had started to move to its right. At significant speed. Scotty lowered Spock down on the step he was standing on and ordered Brown to hold on to the Vulcan. The young man obeyed dutifully, but Scott could hear from his shaky voice that the boy was terrified. And so was he. They had only covered about half of the staircase and were still about 130 meters away from the plateau above them. And then it was another 100 meters or so to the construct where according to Spock, McCoy and Chekov had sought shelter in. As their communicators were being interfered by the energy source about 800 meters bellow them there was of course no point trying to contact McCoy. Until now Scotty hadn't deemed shouting out to be of any use as they still were too far away from the others. But even though Scotty's tricoder was constantly switching itself on an off he had managed to at least estimate that they were moving away at about 20 miles per hour from the platform above. He had to try to alert McCoy to their presence so that the Doctor would know that they were still alive. Wherever he, Brown and Spock would eventually end up, he knew Leonard would come looking for them.

"McCoy!" Scotty shouted out "Doctor McCoy! Can you hear us? It's Scotty here!"

He paused and in the dim light of his tricoder he could see that Brown looked up hopefully, listening for a possible reply. But there was no sound, apart from a distant, mechanic humming noise that was probably linked to the movement of the staircase.

"McCoy!" Scotty tried again "Leonard, can you hear us?"

No reply.

"We're moving away from the platform at great speed, Spock is here with..."

The words got stuck in Scotty's throat as all of a sudden the staircase was breaking up between the steps Brown and Spock were on and the one Scotty was standing on. The movement was soundless and the CEO only noticed as he had just put his right hand on Brown's shoulder bellow him, to give the young Lieutenant some moral support. But suddenly he could feel Brown moving away from him and a cold flow of air touched Scotty's face.

"Del!" Scott shouted out and tried to reach over to the young Lieutenant but his hands only touched cold air.

"! We're moving away!" Brown cried out, a hint of panic in his voice.

Judging from the volume of Brown's voice, Scotty estimated that the Lieutenant and Spock were already too far away from him to reach them with a jump. Probably five meters or so. Scotty hated the thought that the few of them that were stranded on this godforsaken planet would be split up yet again. The inexperienced Del Brown alone with an unconscious Mr. Spock was not an encouraging thought at all.

"Keep talking to me, Del, so we know how far away we are from one another!" Scotty shouted across the gap between them.

"All right, Sir! I will do that." Brown replied, his voice a little more steady than before. Scotty detected that they hadn't moved away from one another much more. And the movement of his side of the staircase had stopped. "I'm not moving anymore, Del. What about you?"

"We have stopped as well. Just now. I think I heard..." Brown's reply was harshly cut short as suddenly some kind of object ascended upwards from bellow at great speed and came to an abrupt halt in the gap between the two parts of the now divided staircase. The sudden appearance of the object made Scotty's heart miss a beat and he stumbled backwards, crashing down onto the step behind him. Scotty ordered himself to stay focused and he turned back towards the strange thing that was now between him and the others. It looked a little like the exteriors of a turbo lift, cigar shaped, but probably twice as large as the lifts aboard the _Enterprise. _The object radiated a white light that even though it wasn't very strong was quiet hurtful to his eyes that had gotten used to the complete darkness that dominated the space bellow the surface of the planetoid. Scotty was about to shout out towards Brown when just opposite him the object opened up, just like the automatic lift doors did aboard the _Enterprise_.

Scotty could hear the deep voice before he could see its owner who was radiating bright, white light that engulfed everything in the vicinity. Scotty immediately closed his eyes and held his arms before his eyes but even then he could still feel the bright light burn into his head and mind.

"_Why have you come to disrupt our work?" _The deep, strong and very loud voice asked in a not very friendly tone.

The bright light seemed to be burning into Scotty's brain and body, he felt like he was being set alight alive. It was one of the most disturbing sensations he had ever felt in his life. He wasn't sure if he would live long enough to actually see the being that was speaking to him.

Combined with his exhaustion and the concussion he had suffered during his fall earlier on, the fear was too much even for the brave Scotsman. Scotty suddenly collapsed towards the being opposite him, unconscious.

Scotty didn't notice anymore how the tall being caught him just in time before he could roll over the edge of the steps and fall down into the abyss.


End file.
